Hogwarts Homecoming
by NoxPrincess
Summary: Hermione Granger takes the risk of becoming the Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts after the war. Little does she know that another ex-pupil has also been recruited to teach the young students. Will Hermione's position of power and urge to be young and let loose get the better of her? Or is there more to it? DM/HG slow burn. Rated M. Reader discretion is advised.
1. The Job Offer

**A/N: it's been a long time since I've written a story here but I had the sudden inspiration to get something out and here's the beginning of it. I hope I can delve into Hermione's character and the people in her life, especially a blond-haired man seeking redemption. Please review if you read this! Tell me where you'd like the story to go, whether you enjoy the writing style, if I need to change the way I word things etc. Constructive criticism and encouragement is welcome! Reader discretion is advised.**

* * *

July 27 2001

The letter came at five o'clock on Friday evening. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was all but quiet despite the time of day. A sighting of the rare Welsh Green dragon had been reported by a squib in a Muggle town of Cardiff, and all hell had broken loose. Ministry employees appeared to be sprinting back and forth throughout the office while simultaneously ducking their heads from impeding paper airplanes. The voice of Amos Diggory had trailed off mid sentence, ordering nobody in particular to "Get Goshwack on the scene, and tell her we're bringing Team B!" as he disappeared down the hall.

Hermione Granger, however, was miles away from the dragon catastrophe. Her attention had been pulled to the sealed envelope with the Hogwarts wax emblem. Her eyes instantly recognised the handwriting. She wondered what Minerva McGonagall wanted this late during the week, and hoped she was granting Hermione permission to access personal files of Dumbledore at Hogwarts.

_Dear Ms Hermione Granger,_

_I am writing to offer you the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry starting this September 1st of 2001. The position will require, but will not be limited to: following seven separate curriculums for the seven year levels of education at Hogwarts; holding career counselling meetings with students; the use of a fair grading system against all components of the curriculum; and enforce school rules and magical laws within the premise of the Hogwarts institution._

_Please return your response by no later than Friday August 3rd 2001. I will have a contract documented and further information available for the position if you are willing._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_PS, you have my permission to use Albus Dumbledore's archives for the translation of Tales of Beedle the Bard._

Hermione read over the letter three times before the gravity of what was written truly sunk in. Teaching at Hogwarts had never been a career option that occurred to her. She had always assumed she would study a higher education, such as the Wizengamot, or work for the change of House-Elf laws (as she was doing now, furthering her S.P.E.W. campaign), or even become an Arithmancer. But teaching students? Never crossed her mind.

Hermione felt herself blushing. Well, she was certainly qualified - there was no doubt that her experience in the field was more than enough - and her 'Outstanding' result in her N.E.W.T.s had overridden her 'Exceeds Expectations' five years previously. But teaching the subject? That was something she had shied away from, allowing Harry that pleasure from their DA meetings. Though, it would be something of an improvement. To get away from the mind-numbing monotony of an office job. To do something fresh and stimulating. More often than not she found herself staring out the window, watching whatever weather the Magical Maintenance crew programmed for the day, wistfully hoping for something to grasp her from her seat and thrust her into the world. That had been a recurring problem as she completed her seventh year. The overwhelming anxiety and excess energy ingrained in her body from the war made settling into a calm, educational environment somewhat infuriating, and also counter-productive.

But was she prepared to leave her work fighting for the rights of House-Elves? Could she teach children the proper way to defend themselves that was both effective and not jade them? Was she ready to be away from the hustle and bustle of the heart of London? Questions no doubt she would have to ponder the answer to over the weekend - _after _Harry Potter's 22nd big birthday bash.

The appearance of a Nathalie Goshwack, a black-haired witch who dressed similarly to Rita Skeeter, jolted Hermione from her thoughts.

"Let's get on top of it, Granger," Nathalie announced, dropping a tonne of files onto her desk. "It'll be overtime tonight with what's going on."

Hermione resisted the temptation to groan and reached for the folder on top of the pile. Nathalie pinned the end of her wand on the same file. "Nuh uh, Granger, those can wait. We're taking you out on some field work. I've heard you've got quite the talent as an Obliviator."

"Oh, b-but I'm not actually qualified, Nathalie." Hermione stumbled on her words.

Nathalia gave the brunette a playful smile. "It'll be our secret. Now come on, Diggory's already left me five messages in the space of ten minutes, and I'm curious to find out just _why _a Welsh Green is so far away from home."

Hermione packed up her desk with the flick of her wand, doubting she'd be returning to the Ministry this evening. She slipped the letter and some other documents into her bag before making way for the floos at Goshwack's heels.

* * *

It was just past eleven o'clock when Hermione Granger kicked open the door of her London flat. She felt her way to the light switch and the front room lit up, revealing a snoring Ginny Weasley laid up on the couch. The TV was giving static, and whatever movie had been playing on the VHS was long finished. Ginny stirred from the disturbance of light and blinked her eyes open.

"Hey," she grated sleepily. "You're home late."

Hermione tutted in response, shrugging off her coat then gracefully plonking herself in the adjacent armchair. "Well, you know what it's like with dragons, they don't really follow the wizarding work schedule."

"Whoa, what dragon?" Ginny pulled herself together and sat up, making room for a gruntled Crookshanks to perch in her lap.

"Well, we got a tip-off from a Squib in Cardiff saying they overheard some touring Muggles talking about seeing a dragon." Hermione yanked her shoes off and tossed them over her shoulder. "So, naturally, the whole department is in conflict because we don't know whether they're pulling our leg or being serious-"

"-But why would a Squib lie about something like that?" Ginny interjected.

Hermione shrugged. "People do weird things, and doesn't it seem somewhat likely that someone who comes from a magical family but possesses no magical abilities of their own, they might be feeling a little jealous and maybe want some limelight? It wouldn't be the first time it's happened."

"So people were uncertain about taking this person's tip-off seriously?" Ginny queried.

"Correct." Hermione nodded back. "But obviously something on this scale couldn't possibly be ignored, so we sent one of the interns along with Thaddeus Thatch to check it out. Apparently they got a shock when they saw what was waiting for them. Next thing you know, it's gone balls-up because Cardiff obviously isn't a small place, and who knew how many Muggles saw it before it was reported to the Ministry?"

"What happened after that?"

"Ugh, what didn't happen after that." Hermione rubbed her temple. The headache she'd managed to keep at bay throughout the evening was making its presence known. "I went with Nathalie Goshwack to Obliviate memories, which took several hours."

Ginny pointed her wand at the fridge and summoned a bottle of chardonnay and two glasses. Hermione watched the clear liquid pour itself into the glasses and indulged in a sip. She was often cautious about consuming wine when arriving home from work, having seen the damage alcohol had done to Harry post-war, but tonight she felt she needed it. Not to mention Ginny kept the bar cart well-stocked with various spirits that Hermione detested.

"Anyway, we got a few dragonologists to track down the thing. They were still trying to tame it when I left." The sour pinch of the wine made Hermione's throat feel warm and tingly. She sighed contently.

"Did you see Charlie?" Ginny was scratching Crookshanks in between the ears.

She shook her head. "No, he stayed Wales panning out some leads. Apparently they think it was illegally bred by a witch. No solid proof yet, though. How was your evening?"

Ginny sipped the chardonnay, nodding. "Not bad. Training was brutal. I came home, put a movie on, and was out in ten minutes. Harry was supposed to be coming over but I haven't heard from him." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Actually, I haven't heard from him since last night."

Hermione watched the cogs turning in her best female friend. For the past three years Hermione played witness to the drama in Harry and Ginny's relationship. It hadn't been a pretty show. Harry had drunk himself silly for an indefinite period of time, unable to deal with the grief, sorrow, and guilt, leaving Ginny to bear the burden of her partner's troubles, pushing hers further down the line. It wasn't a healthy arrangement. In fact, Hermione was almost certain if what happened 18 months ago hadn't happened, the couple wouldn't be together today.

"He's probably overworked, Gin, like yourself." Hermione remarked. "I saw Ron on Wednesday and he looked like bollocks. The Auror office has been working them hard."

"Maybe." Ginny muttered, rimming her glass with her finger, staring out the window by the dining table.

Hermione knew if she didn't change the subject soon that Ginny would seriously start worrying. As much as she loved her, the last thing Hermione wanted to do was spend the next few hours soothing Ginny's anxiety and subsequently carrying her to bed after too much alcohol. She racked her brains trying to come up with something worth talking about that would take the spotlight off Harry.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "I got a letter from Professor McGonagall today."

Ginny snapped her attention back to the brown-haired witch. "Oh? Did she say yes about reading Dumbledore's archives?"

"Well, yes, that happened, but also - you're not going to believe this - she offered me the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

Ginny gaped like a fish. "What?! You didn't tell me you wanted the job!"

"That's the thing, I didn't! I've never considered teaching students before. It was completely out of the blue." Hermione admitted, downing a few more sips of her drink.

"Oh my Godric." Ginny grinned. "Are you going to say yes?"

She made a non-commital noise. "I don't know. I mean, it would definitely be different. It's something far out of my comfort zone." she admitted. "But, I don't know if I'm ready to leave my fight for House-Elf rights just yet. I can't give up on something I'm so passionate about."

"Nobody said anything about giving that up." The redhead pointed out. "You could still pursue it, that's what politics is for."

"That's true." Hermione bit her lip, mulling that over. "I just don't know. Do you think I'd be a good teacher?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course you would be!" Ginny declared, splashing some of her wine on Crookshanks, who lept up and ran out to the deck.

Hermione giggled appreciatively. As crass and blunt Ginny could be sometimes, she was always in support of her friends. "I've got a week to come up with my answer. I suppose I could think more about it in the next couple of days."

"Attagirl!" Ginny clinked her glass against Hermione's. "To new beginnings for Hermione Granger!"

* * *

A summer breeze was sweeping through the manor that Friday night, entangling Draco Malfoy in a fortuitous state of calm. Tonight, the sickly warmth was welcomed by him. He finished the final drops of whiskey from the glass and set it down beside him. He knew it was getting on. The early Saturday morning plans were nagging at him to get enough sleep.

As if somebody had read his mind, Draco heard the familiar gait of his House-Elf.

"Someone wishes to speak to you, Master Malfoy."

"If it's Mother tell her I'll be retiring soon." he replied flatly.

"It's not your mother." A gentle voice from behind him chirped.

Draco turned his head at the visitor. "Astoria." He frowned at the witch, wondering what she wanted with him at this hour. "It's past midnight."

"That it is." she agreed, making her way over. She stood opposite him.

He attempted to read her face, but admittedly he'd had a little bit too much to drink and the blonde witch appeared a little fuzzy. She was clad in a simple white slip, her short hair bobbed at the neck. It had been weeks since he saw her last. Weeks since he touched her body, felt the hotness of her lips against his own. It was his decision to call off the engagement, but he got the feeling she was coping with it better than he was.

"What are you doing here?" Draco got out clumsily.

Astoria fixed herself a glass of rum at the bar. Draco watched the hem of her dress hitch up slightly and distantly wondered if she was wearing any knickers. He knew this to be a go-to tactic of hers; it always worked. She turned to him, bringing the drink to her mouth.

"I'm here to see you of course." she quipped.

"You've seen me. As you can see, all is well and good, feel free to leave." He stated. He didn't intend on hurting her feelings, but if he was going to contain himself then she would need to be removed immediately.

Astoria downed the remainder of the rum in one go and approached. "Draco, I know you. You can pull that on me as much as you want. I see right through it." She snaked her hands up his chest, looping them around his neck. "I can see how much you're hurting."

Draco attempted to snort but it came out more like a hiccup. "You don't know anything about me, Astoria." He tried his hardest to ignore her leg hooked around his and her pelvis grazing against his thigh. "What do you want?"

Her puckered lips were inches away from his own. "I want you."


	2. Harry's 22nd

The obnoxious shrilling of an alarm clock pulled Hermione from her slumber at 8 o'clock Saturday morning. Groaning, she stretched out her arm and smacked the clock several times before it shut up. The witch blinked drowsily at the sun striking her in light. She'd forgotten to draw the curtains when they staggered into bed not eight hours ago. At that point her housemate rose from the sheets beside her and cursed at Hermione's feeble attempt in shutting out the sun.

"I'm definitely awake now." Ginny Weasley growled, tugging the sheet with her as she rolled.

"Sorry." Hermione replied halfheartedly.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes, watching a curious Crookshanks sitting on her suitcase. The cat leaped onto the bed at his owner's stirring and rubbed himself affectionately against Hermione's arm. Somebody wanted breakfast.

"Good morning, Crookshanks." She muttered.

Hermione swung her legs over the bed, attempting to ignore the giddy feeling swimming in her stomach, and got up. She padded out into the kitchen and fed the orange fluff ball who was trailing in behind her. She then poured a glass of apple juice and sipped coolly, hoisting herself onto a bar stool.

The lounge room looked like a bomb had hit it: discarded bottles of wine strewn about, leftover cheese, crackers, and dips, and a stain on the floor which Hermione hoped was a figment of her imagination. The scene before her explained the rapidly paced beats of her heart and a case of the shakes. She had drank _way _too much. Hermione made a mental note to sleep off her hangover before the party tonight. If she had the chance.

Ginny emerged from the bedroom draped in a pink dressing gown.

"How're you feeling?" Hermione teased.

Ginny stuck her finger up in response.

The redhead looked even worse for wear. Her chocolate eyes were bloodshot, her face pale as milk, and the unruly mess of hair gave Hermione's a run for its money. What a pair. However, Hermione had no doubt that the younger witch would be raring to go again tonight after a course of aspirin. She watched her housemate sit on the couch, nibbling at a cracker.

Ginny had been living with Hermione nearly as long as she had the flat. She'd bought it as an investment following her graduation from Hogwarts. Her dentist parents weren't rich, but a small inheritance had come to Hermione when she turned twenty, and with her status in the Golden Trio after the war, suffice to say the Ministry had awarded her efforts. The three bedroom flat was situated a fifteen minute walk from Kings Cross, but it wasn't long before Hermine realised, as much as she liked peace and quiet, she didn't like to live alone. Ron often stayed during the week when they were still together, and Harry popped in from time to time, but it was lonely. The adjustment to "adult life" - as it were - did not come to Hermione naturally. Beating her head against the wall for a week or so, Ginny came up with the perfect solution after a Weasley Sunday lunch fiasco. She moved in next day. Since then it was wine after work palavers, hungover mornings watching films on Hermione's VHS, and parties hosting the Holyhead Harpies quidditch team. Living with Ginny Weasley definitely gave you more bang for your buck, although the toilet had seen better days, and Crookshanks had a worryingly high number of champagne corks hidden under the couch.

Hermione never pictured her twenties going like this. Growing up, it didn't appeal to her. She couldn't see the interest in drinking until you blacked out, or counting the numbers of people you'd been intimate with (two, in her case), and trying the newest diet fad to look socially acceptable in a bikini. It all felt meaningless and wasteful. But after seeing much more of the wizarding nightlife than she cared to admit, tipsy conversations over pizza with Ginny, and the chance to actually, well, _live, _Hermione almost felt happy. She had a secure job, great friends, and a loving family. Nothing could take that away.

Ginny downed the dregs from a remaining glass then winced.

"Mum has asked if we can get to the Burrow early to help set up." Ginny announced, stalking her way to the kitchen.

Hermione nodded. "Sure. What time? I have a few errands to run."

"The party starts at six, so probably at four o'clock." Ginny started pulling ingredients out for what Hermione recognised as waffles.

"I'll be there. Do you know who is coming?"

"Mostly family I think, and a few work friends." Ginny mixed the ingredients together with a point of her wand. "Feel free to bring a plus one, but you haven't mentioned any recent romantic endeavours so I doubt-"

"Thank you for the reminder." Hermione interjected. "No plus ones for me, thank you."

Romance was the last thing she needed.

* * *

Draco Malfoy hated Saturday mornings almost as much as he hated Monday mornings, but he hated this Saturday morning even more than usual. For one, it was obscenely bright and even his blackout curtains were struggling to keep out the sun. Second, he made the mistake of hooking up with his ex-fiancee last night in a moment of weakness. The said ex-fiancee, however, was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was for the best if she'd gone in the early hours. The morning after was always awkward, and if Astoria was having second thoughts about what they did and decided to bail, it made it all the more easier to be forgotten.

Draco rose from the satin sheets and shrugged on his boxers and robe. He wandered into the en suite, determined to wash away the memories of his ever growing list of sins from the previous evening, when he found Astoria dressing herself in front of the mirror.

"Good morning, Draco." She addressed him while brushing her hair.

"Morning." He rubbed his eyes, still unsure if what happened really happened. "It's an early start for you," he noted. When they were still a couple they rarely were up before ten o'clock. "Busy day?"

Astoria shrugged. "I have to go visit my parents, and I have a do tonight."

She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. Once upon a time he could read the myriad of expressions on her face. Draco had always prided himself on being able to recognise other people's emotions, especially when those people didn't know it themselves. It was partly due to learning Occlumency, mostly because his attention to detail. He watched her carefully, trying to guess what she was thinking. Whatever it was, he wanted in first.

"Look, Astoria… I think last night was a mistake." Draco started. "We broke up for a reason and-"

"-Yes, and what was that reason, Draco?" Astoria arched her eyebrow.

"I'm not ready for marriage." He stated plainly.

"You're not ready for marriage." Astoria repeated.

Draco sighed. "I enjoyed last night," he admitted. "But it shouldn't have happened. I don't want to use you, Astoria. I'm not ready for this commitment yet, plain and simple. I don't want to lead you on thinking that something might happen when it can't. Do you understand?"

Astoria looked at him for several moments, and Draco prayed she wouldn't call his bluff. After what felt like hours of agony, she shrugged in response. "If that's what you want." Astoria summoned her handbag and swung it over her shoulder.

"Do you want me to walk you out?" He asked.

She shook her head. "I think I know my way around the manor by now." The witch reached up and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you next time, Draco."

Then she was gone.

Draco leaned against the shower door and sighed. It was true. He wasn't ready for marriage. Except, that wasn't the only reason they'd split up.

Draco felt he'd never clicked with Astoria. Yes, she was a beautiful and bright witch. She was smart and always said what she meant; it was one of the best qualities about her, yet something just didn't feel right. He spent nights going over it in his head, wondering what could possibly be wrong with him. Draco was so lucky. He was dismissed of all charges against him after the war - Salazar, it didn't even get as far as a trial - and he had the opportunity to start new, to have a family of his own with a gorgeous and respected woman, and here he was, throwing it all away. But he was trusting his gut. Draco was taking advice from the wizard medic he'd been paying, and wanted so badly to trust his instinct.

Fed up with his brain already, he turned the shower on and stepped into the cold water.

After Draco managed to clean himself up a bit and shove last night as far away as possible, he went downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning, son." Narcissa Malfoy greeted Draco as he entered the dining hall.

Draco kissed his mother on her head of black hair. "Morning, mother. How are you?" he approached the buffet and loaded a plate with toast, bacon, and eggs before sitting opposite Narcissa at the table.

"I'm well, thank you." She replied.

She was reading The Prophet, as usual, and peered over the paper to look at Draco. Just about to take a sip of orange juice, he felt her eyes on him. "What is it?"

Narcissa flipped a page and shook her head. "Nothing at all." A small smile appeared on her face.

Draco exhaled and put his drink. "What is it actually?"

"I just noticed a Ms Greengrass departing the manor this morning. She was looking very spritely." Narcissa mused. "I wondered if perhaps you two had reconciled."

"Mother, don't play matchmaker." Draco scolded her. "And I don't think it's appropriate to comment on how she was looking."

Narcissa's smile turned to a smirk. "I just don't understand why you can't work things out with her. You were a lovely couple."

"Because I don't want to marry anybody right now. That's it. End of discussion." Draco redirected his attention to his breakfast, though Narcissa continued looking amused.

Draco sorted through the small pile of mail on the tray beside him. Nowadays it was often a mix of hate mail, charity advertising, and the latest news whether it be trouble for the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, or the latest couple. His hand reached for a letter written for himself and immediately scrunched his eyebrows together. Narcissa, who noticed her son's concerned expression, let the newspaper lay on the table.

"What is it?" She questioned.

"It's a letter from Professor McGonagall." Draco opened it with the letter knife and read the contents. "What in Merlin…"

Narcissa frowned at her son. "The Headmistress of Hogwarts?"

Drao nodded.

"What does she want?"

Draco looked at his mother. "She wants to give me a job."

* * *

Harry Potter's birthday party went off without a hitch that night. Hermione had arrived four hours ago to assist the Weasley's in setting up the Burrow for the incoming guests. She'd chased the chickens back into their pen with Bill, helped George enchant his latest Weasley products in the garden, and peeled so many potatoes alongside Ginny she doubted she'd eat another one again. It had just gone nine o'clock and Hermione found herself seated at the end of the table with the company of Neville Longbottom.

"I heard you're teaching at Hogwarts Neville, how are you finding it?" Hermione asked politely while raising her glass of Firewhiskey to her lips. It had been a hot minute since she last saw Neville, and wanted to gather as much information about teaching as she could.

Neville grinned brightly at her. "It's fantastic! I mean, I enjoyed working in the Auror's office, but this is a different ball game. Working with plants is something of much more interest to me." He reached for an egg sandwich. "Turns out, I actually like teaching students as well. I suppose after suffering years from Snape's torment I want to do better for young wizards."

"That's a lovely sentiment, Neville." Hermione agreed. "You sound really happy."

"I really feel happy. Also having a secure job with a baby on the way has alleviated some stress."

Hermione gaped at him. "What? Hannah's pregnant? Congratulations!"

He was beaming at her. "Thanks Hermione." he returned the hug Hermione enveloped him in. "Hannah's due date is January - we're hoping for a New Year baby."

"Cheers to that." Hermione clinked her Firewhiskey against his.

"So you're still in the Department for the Regulation and Control for Magical Creatures? How are you finding that?" Neville questioned, sipping his drink.

Hermione shrugged. "It's going okay. Admittedly a little slower than I expected, but it could be worse."

She decided earlier in the day that she would keep the information about her job offer to herself - and made Ginny vow not to say anything either. Hermione still didn't know if she could take the leap for such a drastic career change. Perhaps it would be satisfying to make an impact on young wizards, like Neville said. Maybe this could be a chance to deal with leftover issues the war had on her. Or it might just be a chance to get out of the rut she was in.

She started getting frustrated with her lack of decisiveness and gulped the rest of the whiskey in one go. It burned her throat going down.

"I'll chat to you later, Neville." Hermione got up and went looking for somebody she knew would indulge in her reckless side.

Harry was in a conversation with Hagrid by the picket fence. Hermione caught Hagrid booming about the latest flock of unicorns he was tending in the Forbidden Forest, but as she got closer the next thing she noticed was the drink in Harry's hand.

"Hi Hagrid!" Hermione greeted her old friend happily.

"Hermione! Hello!" Hagrid pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "You look fantastic! I was jus' telling Harry here abou' how I came across this hornless unicorn an' how its been rejected from its family."

Hermione glanced at Harry whose eyes were shiftly flicking through the crowd of guests by the house. "Oh, Hagrid, that's awful. Do unicorn horns grow back?"

Hagrid shook his head. "Not that I know of. An' it's only a baby, too so I'm rearin' it myself."

"I'm sure you'll do great, Hagrid." Hermione said as confidently as she could muster. "Is it okay if I steal Harry for a moment?"

"No worries. I'm sure you two have a lo' of catchin' up to do." Hagrid raised his flask to Harry and rejoined the party.

Hermione looked at Harry expectantly. A guilty expression she recognised all too well formed on his face as he glimpsed at his beverage and he started before she could say a word.

"I know what you're going to say, Hermione. That I shouldn't be drinking and I'm ruining my sobriety, I've already heard it all from Ginny and Ron, so you don't need to jump on the-"

Hermione seized the glass from him and chugged all of it as Harry trailed off. She was pleasantly surprised at the aftertaste of vodka and cherries. Harry stared at her with an open mouth.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, shut up. I need it. I'm about to face a life changing decision and I can't decide."

Harry pulled a curious face at her. "That doesn't sound like you." he remarked.

Hermione frowned at the grass. "Well, it's true."

"Look, Hermione," Harry grasped her shoulder, "I'm sure you'll decide what's best in the end. Ron and I won't admit otherwise, but even throughout school you always made the right decision, or tried to at least. It wasn't your fault we didn't listen."

Hermione chuckled softly. "We did get into a lot of trouble."she remembered fondly.

"Whatever it is, it'll work out. Like it's always done." Harry gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Okay?"

"Okay." she gave him a small smile.

"Good." Harry nodded his head. "Now, I'm off to get another drink before I wrap up the night, given you stole mine."

She watched as the Boy Who Lived sauntered back to the party and disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Half an hour later, Hermione would definitely agree with anyone who said to her, that she was drunk. A fogginess had ensnared her brain and body which left her leaning against a wooden pillar outside the kitchen. Some of the crowd had started dancing to the sound of Celestina Warbeck in the middle of the garden (which honestly was now just mud with grass mixed in). Hermione watched as the tyke, Victoire, stumbled in circles with Fleur and Molly.

She felt a familiar presence creep up behind her and turned her head.

"Ron." she smiled at her ex boyfriend and old friend. Surprisingly, she'd managed to avoid a direct conversation with her ex all evening. Things were getting better between them, but it still felt a little awkward tip toeing around each other. "How are you?"

The youngest Weasley man smiled boyishly. "Better than you apparently, look at you, Hermione." he taunted. "You can barely stand up."

"I can stand, thank you very much!" And to prove her point, Hermione stepped away from the pillar and stood on the spot "See?"

Ron laughed. He poked her shoulder gently and she rocked backwards. "Whoa!" He grabbed her by the hand to hold her steady.

"See? Perfectly fine." Hermione chortled.

"Yeah, right." Ron tutted in response.

Without thinking about what she was doing, Hermione slipped her arms around Ron's neck and pressed closer. He raised an eyebrow down at her but didn't object.

"Is this okay?" she murmured.

It took a moment for him to respond. "It's fine." Ron held her hips and together they slowly swayed in a circle. Hermione rest her head against the warmth of his chest, sighing contently. It was almost ten months since they last touched each other in this way. She didn't realise how much she missed Ron's company. Sure, by the end of their relationship things had gone more than rocky, but Ron was her friend before her boyfriend - she sincerely hoped their friendship would heal someday.

"I miss you." she whispered into his chest. Hermione returned her gaze up to him.

"I miss you too, Hermione."

His face was getting closer and Hermione's eyes fluttered shut. She could feel his ragged breath so close to her lips.

Next moment, the reverberation of Harry Potter engulfed the garden. "Er can everyone hear me?"

The couple jumped apart and Hermione cleared her throat, looking away from him, sure that her cheeks were flushing red.

Harry's head appeared from above the crowd and it was evident he was standing on some boxes so everybody could see him. He must be hating this already, Hermione thought distantly. The messy haired wizard spoke again. "First, I want to thank everyone for coming tonight. I know people have got busy lives so I appreciate it. Second, I want to say thank you to Mr and Mrs Weasley-" Harry shifted his gaze to the married couple in the middle of the crowd. "-for accommodating me and taking care of me for these past many years, and taking the time to make this a great birthday party." The guests aptly applauded. "And lastly, I want to thank my girlfriend, Ginny."

At this point Harry jumped down from the box and Hermione lost sight of him. The crowd shuffled slightly to make room and Hermione inched closer. A hush had fallen, and she recognised Harry's voice murmuring, but she was unable to hear. She crept through the group of people and was startled when everyone started yelling. Hermione broke through the last barrier.

Harry was down on one knee. "Ginny, will you marry me?"

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for the couple of reviews and messages I received after the first chapter, readers! I'm loving writing this story. I know Draco and Hermione haven't actually met yet, but setting up a lot of backstory for both characters. Hope you enjoyed the bit of Neville love too, he should make a few appearances in the coming chapters which will be fun to delve into. Apologies for any typos, I've been writing this at work which is often late at night and I get tired. Please review if you liked this chapter or if you have any feedback for me!**


	3. Sausages

**A/N: Heyo! Thanks for the messages on chapter two. Apologies for any typos in this chapter, I spent a lot of time going back and forth on it and wrote the whole thing while I was at work. Picking up where we left off...**

****19/05/2019 UPDATE: I added a bit more to the conclusion for this chapter as it didn't feel right to have it as the beginning of chapter 4.**

* * *

"Oh, I still can't believe it!" Molly Weasley cried as she pushed a few more slices of bacon onto Harry's plate. "What an amazing birthday present for the rest of us."

The ruffle-haired wizard was blushing, nodding at the Weasley matriarch with a mouth full of eggs.

"Mum, you're embarrassing him." Ginny chastised her mother while rubbing her fiancee's hair affectionately. "That's my job now."

Harry ducked his head and swallowed. "Last night was bad enough. And thank you, Mrs Weasley."

Hermione snorted when Ginny gave her a pointed look. The redhead picked up this month's copy of The Quibbler, and Hermione returned to her breakfast. After spending what felt like hours in the Weasley's bathroom, passing everything that entered her body the past year, Hermione had worked up an appetite. She shovelled in some baked beans appreciatively, content to watch the scene in front of her play out.

Mr Weasley left the Burrow minutes ago, bypassing Molly with a kiss on his way out, and by the sound of stomping upstairs, the Delacours' would be making an appearance any second.

Admittedly, it had been a hot minute since Hermione last had a breakfast at the Burrow. She'd been so caught up in her life at the Ministry these past few months, she barely had time for a social life. And she was definitely noticing it now. Despite living with one of the Weasley's herself, Hermione didn't have much excuse to visit the Burrow on casual occasions. She often saw Percy, and even Arthur, during the week at the Ministry, but being in separate departments, their work paths rarely crossed. Now with Ginny and Harry's relationship becoming more serious, Hermione wondered how many things were about to change.

She stabbed a sausage with her fork. Next moment, a flurry of two blondes squeezed into the kitchen.

"Bonjour!" Fleur smiled gracefully, taking a seat beside Hermione at the table.

"Hello, Fleur." Hermione brandished the breadboard of toast at the witch. "Toast?"

"Victoire, put zat down!" Fleur reprimanded her daughter as the toddler started pulling things out of a nearby cupboard. "No, thank you, 'Ermione. I will 'ave porridge." She directed her attention to Ginny. "Now, show me ze ring, Ginny."

She put her newspaper down and stretched out her arm across the table, an amused expression on her face. Fleur grabbed Ginny's fingers and scrutinised the diamond on her finger. "Yes, it iz very beautiful. Well done, 'Arry." She sent a grin to the wizard. Ginny pulled her arm back.

"Will Bill be joining us?" Molly asked her daughter-in-law, flicking her wand at the kettle on the stove. The jug flew over and poured hot water into the newest mug on the table.

"No, 'ee left early for work." Fleur served herself a bowl of porridge. The sound of breaking glass brought the adult's attention toward the toddler. "Victoire, come 'ere now!"

Just then, Ron materialised from the bottom of the staircase. "Come here squirt" He scooped up the tyke in one swift motion and packed himself into the remaining spot around the table, Victoire on his lap. "Mm, English breakfast, thanks Mum."

Victoire folded her arms and huffed at the sight.

"What, I thought you liked sausages, Vic?" Ron picked one up with a fork and waved it in front of her. Victoire shook her head. "What a shame that is. Looks like I'm going to have to eat it all by myself!" Ron took a massive chomp from the kransky and grinned proudly at his niece.

The toddler burst into a fit of giggles.

"That's what I thought." Ron smirked, filling up a plate for them to share.

A smile formed on Hermione's lips as she watched the two begin debating about whether baked beans were better than spaghetti.

"Incoming eggs!" The distant voice of Molly warned the table.

"Congratulations on Bill's promotion at work." Harry noted, leaning to the side to avoid the plate of eggs coming through. "Ginny told me this morning."

"Thank you, 'Arry. He iz very excited."

"I bet. And I heard Charlie's working some big case in Wales, Mrs Weasley. How's that treating him?" Harry trailed off to Molly who was removing more toast from the toaster.

Feeling somewhat nostalgic being served breakfast at the Weasley's, Hermione realised something: life here went on without her. Things seemed the same on the surface (overcooked bacon, the early morning work slog), but the deeper she looked, the more had changed.

She couldn't believe that Bill and Fleur's daughter was going on two years old, or that Harry proposed to his long time girlfriend just twelve hours ago, and even hearing Neville was settling down, expecting a child! How had all this happened so quickly? One moment they were receiving Medals of Valour after the war, and next they were preparing a wedding date? Hermione found herself staring at Ron, occupied by Victoire's distaste for potato.

Her chest felt heavy and she wrinkled her nose at the food. Is this what jealousy over success was like? The sinking feeling in her stomach coiled further. Of course she was happy about Ginny and Harry's engagement, and Bill's promotion too. It was fantastic news all around, and well deserved. So why did she feel so unsettled? Just because her work wasn't progressing as quickly as she'd like, and her split with Ron still took adjusting didn't mean she wasn't going anywhere. Sure, it was a slow-burn, but she was convinced she was making a difference! At least, she hoped that was true...

Hermione remembered a brief conversation she shared with Ginny last night over a bottle of champagne.

"Y'know, I think I'm ready." Ginny announced, reappearing from the shrubs.

Hermione stood to attention. "Hmm? Ready for what?"

"To live with Harry."

"Oh?" Hermione narrowed her brows. "Really?"

Ginny swiped the bottle from Hermione's grasp and took a swig, nodding. "Yeah. I mean, after all we've been through. The alcohol, the fighting-" Ginny burped. "The miscarriage. It's made us stronger as a couple. I know we're young, but I don't feel it on the inside. Do you get what I mean?"

Despite Ginny's slurring and the fact that she probably wouldn't recall this the following morning, Hermione spotted a ring of truth. Hermione herself was only 22, yet she felt a millenia older. Living and fighting in a war would do that to you, she supposed.

"I get what you mean." Hermione nodded solemnly.

"Anyway," Ginny chugged from the bottle, immediately wincing afterwards. "I better get back to it, make sure he's not too suicidal with all the attention. Thanks for keeping watch!" and with that, she stumbled back into the crowd.

"Hermione?"

Hermione shook herself from her thoughts. Everyone was looking at her expectantly. "What is it?"

"You said something, dear?" Mrs Weasley queried.

That was that. She refused to be upset over her family's accomplishments just because she hadn't made any of her own. It was time to move on. Time to change.

Hermione cleared her throat and found herself saying the words:. "I'm going back to Hogwarts." She broke her gaze from her ex. "I'm taking the job as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"W-what? That's brilliant, Hermione!" Harry guffawed. "I didn't know you were going for the job." He turned to Ginny. "Did you?"

Ginny gave a shrug.

"What great news." Mrs Weasley chided.

Fleur nodded in agreement. "Teaching iz a respectable career in France. You will do well, 'Ermione."

A rush of relief poured out of her. Her shoulders relaxed. Hermione couldn't stop the smile from emerging and she let herself enjoy the moment of attention. The group clinked their mugs of coffee together over the table and gave a cheer. Ginny was giving her a quizzical look, probably wondering how Hermione had come to a decision this quickly but she could deal with that later.

A chair scraped across the floor then only the toddler sat at the end of the table. Hermione's eyes followed the short crop of red hair out the door.

"Ron?" She detached herself from breakfast and chased after him outside.

The ruins from last night's party hadn't been cleared yet. The grass - now a mushy mud - was littered with glass bottles, napkins and shoes. Part of the picket fence had been destroyed and gnomes were running freely through the bushes and around the chicken coop. Ron stopped at the fence, his back to her.

"Ron?" Hermione trudged to him.

"What are you playing at?" He hissed, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean why are you doing this?" Ron turned to her. "Going back to Hogwarts? I thought you liked your job."

Hermione frowned. "I do like my job but… I want a change."

A harsh laugh escaped from his mouth. "No, I know you, Hermione. It can't be that. At least, it's not as simple as that."

"Why can't it be as simple as that?"

"Because you love what you do! You're so adamant on making a difference for the House-Elves, Godric you go on and on about it to me and Harry. Now you're just giving it up?"

She furrowed her brows and placed her hands on her hips. "Who said anything about giving it up? I can continue to fight for those rights outside of the Ministry you know!"

Ron scoffed. "And when are you going to do that around teaching? On your weekend? You're going to plan a protest in Hogsmeade?"

"I can't believe you're saying this!" She screeched. "I thought you of all people would understand when you need a change. Just because you're not brave enough to take a chance when you see one." Hermione turned away from him but Ron rounded on her.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means." She spat. "You spent six months complaining to me about wanting to leave the Auror Office but you didn't want to disappoint Harry, and look who's still there, Ron!"

Her ex boyfriend's face turned a brilliant scarlet and she was certain her own matched. Two figures appeared from the kitchen. Harry stepped between the two.

"Let's dial this down a notch." He contended, looking Hermione in the eye.

"He started it." She muttered, studying the dirt on her shoes.

"It doesn't matter who started it." Ginny stated. "We're finishing it."

The wizard sighed and stalked away. Harry followed, sending Hermione an apologetic look as he jogged off. A distant 'pop' told her Ron had disapparated. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Do you need a minute to cool down?" Ginny asked, attempting to catch Hermione's eye.

She shook her head. "No. I want to go home, but I have to send a letter first."

* * *

Draco hadn't been up the winding road in years. In fact, he hadn't expected to smell the familiar Scottish air again for another decade or so, at least, not in this area.

The stroll from Hogsmeade Village had invigorated him with the sun on his back and tang of Butterbeer on his tongue, though he still felt somewhat in a dream. The idea that he was about to have an meeting with his ex Transfiguration professor for a job at Hogwarts seemed preposterous, yet here he was. His mother hadn't agreed with him to begin with. Her son didn't need a job to earn a wage. The Malfoy inheritance was enough to support him and whatever children he may have one day, let alone the family's business investments and various other assets. Draco was already aware of this. It wasn't the wage he wanted to earn, but something else and he was positive this was the path to it. So Draco replied to the Headmistress not a day later despite his mother's reservations, eagerly accepting the position. Although now he was getting nervous.

Draco passed through the iron-wrought gate, surprised to see the Keeper of Keys waiting for him.

"Hagrid." Draco nodded curtly to the man.

"Malfoy." He replied civilly.

The only thing that looked different about Rubeus Hagrid was the grey in his beard and wrinkles on his face. He still wore that same stern expression when he looked at Draco, as if comparing him to his precious Golden Trio. He wondered what Hagrid was thinking about. Nothing good probably.

The two walked in silence through the grounds of the school. Memories of days by the Black Lake resurfaced as they trekked past: the time Crabbe lost his wand from a tug of war game against the Giant Squid, making plans to prank Potter's quidditch match with Dementors, even occasional snogs with Pansy. A heaviness tugged at his heart.

Draco had kept close contact with the majority of his high school friends (Blaise, Pansy and Theodore the most), but they all had their own lives to lead. Up until recently it had been him and Astoria spending their days at one function or another, organising details for a looming wedding, and all around keeping the people around them happy. He didn't know how much Astoria could see through his facade, and it probably didn't bother her regardless. She wasn't a cold witch, but she knew her duties. The old way was terribly confining.

Hagrid escorted him all the way up to the Headmistress' office. He cleared his throat and addressed the gargoyle, "Vindiciae."

The steps sprang to life. Draco hopped up and before he knew it he was at the door. His heart started to race. What could possibly go wrong?

He knocked three times.

"Enter." The voice from inside called.

Draco pushed the door open and let himself in. The Headmistress' office looked only slightly different from his school days. A few artefacts here and there had relocated and a new frame on the wall holding the portrait of Severus Snape.

Hunched over the desk looking right in place was old McGonagall herself. The witch was clad in a deep emerald robe with a matching hat. Her hair tightly pulled back in her usual bun, she somehow appeared more rigorous than usual - if that was possible.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy, right on time. Take a seat."

Draco did so and waited patiently as she finished writing. McGonagall placed her quill in its holder and gave him her utmost attention.

"Thank you for answering my summons. Professor Flitwick has decided to retire so I need a new Charms teacher before term begins. I have deliberated and from the group of few wizards I deem capable for the position, your name has popped up numerous times."

This took him by surprise. The conversations he usually heard from people gossiping about him were rarely in a positive light.

"If you have any reservations about taking the position please tell me now." She said earnestly.

Draco stared at her, pondering if it was really going to be this easy. "None at all, it's just uh-" he struggled for words. He knew McGonagall wasn't particularly fond of him, especially since he was such an arrogant sod of a student, and his mission to murder the Headmaster set him back a few points also, so was she willing to have such a controversial figure in her school? He briefly considered what his ex-classmates would think of this situation. Draco cleared his throat. "I don't think many parents would want their children to be taught by a-"

"-Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall removed her glasses and placed them beside her. "We have had many figures teach within the walls of this school. Some who have been here for more than twenty years, and others who were not suitable in the first place…"

Draco's mind wandered to Dolores Umbridge.

"They were few and far between perfect, however now I have a school to run and I need a teacher before term begins in one month. Are you willing to be that teacher or not?"

The message was clear. Despite any outrage from families or the newspapers about an ex Death Eater teaching at Hogwarts, she was prepared to have Draco onboard. How she had come to that decision, Draco didn't want to know, but his answer was obvious. He nodded. "Yes, I am."

"Good." McGonagall put her glasses back on. "Now let's get down to business. Here are your curriculums for the seven year levels." She pointed her wand at the bookshelf on the right and a black folder soared from the top, settling on the desk in front of him. "You are obviously aware of the general outline after your education here, however I warn you that the workload can be intense. You have a duty of care for these students that goes beyond grading their school work. Should you have any issues that you cannot resolve yourself please refer to your Head of House who is Professor Slughorn or myself if necessary."

She placed a document in front of him. "This is your contract which is Hogwarts standard. It includes all your expectations as a professor in regards to grading against the curriculum and your duty of care outside of the classroom and so forth. Please sign at the bottom."

He drew his loopy signature with the pencil, his gaze returning the growing stack of files beside him.

"You will have an office provided for you. It is your decision whether you'd like to live here on the grounds along with the students and other professors."

Draco nodded. "And the other staff?"

A few more pieces of parchment added themselves to the pile. He scanned through the list of faculty, recognising most of the names from his school days. Draco reached the middle of the list when his heart skipped a beat. Surely that was a mistake. Since when did she work here?

"Hermione Granger?"

McGonagall flicked her eyes back to him. "Yes, I got Ms Granger's letter today. She's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

He felt his stomach churn. She gave him a terse look. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Draco tried to swallow the dryness in his mouth.

"Not at all."

* * *

"Honestly, who does he think he is?"

The front door of the flat swung open and Hermione stormed into the lounge room. She tossed her handbag onto the couch then began hastily removing her gloves. "We even aren't together anymore - I don't have to consult him before making life-changing decisions." She sat in the bay window with a huff, scooping up Crookshanks.

Ginny let out a whistle as she made herself comfortable on the armchair.

"Do you want support or advice?" She arched her eyebrow. Ginny found out the hard way that saying the wrong thing to Hermione Granger at a time like this could result in a lot of door slamming.

Hermione remained silent, instead looking out the window to the city before her.

She reflected on her actions from the previous night. Okay, it probably looked a bit bad. Pulling her ex close to her for a slow dance, admitting her feelings about him, leaning in to kiss. She pondered what might have happened if Harry hadn't interrupted the moment. Would she have pulled away at the last second? Or would she have committed herself to it? It was all too much to consider while she felt this enraged.

Ginny spoke again. "This is just a thought, but I think he was hoping you two would get back together." She gauged her friend's reaction but Hermione appeared stoic. "I mean, it looked like you'd had a bit to drink, Hermione. And I heard-"

"-We didn't kiss." Hermione muttered. She turned to her friend. "I was drunk, but I remember that much."

Guilt gnawed at her. It wasn't her intention to lead Ron on. In fact, she wanted the opposite. She wanted him to move on, for them both to move on. It was so exhausting going back and forth with one another; she didn't have it in her to do it again.

Hermione took a breath, collecting herself. If Ron wanted to be upset about her decision, that was his issue. She had other things to be worrying about. Like the fact she had just a month to prepare for her teaching career, and she'd need to hand in her notice to the Ministry. She could easily push Ron from her mind.

Ginny was watching her with an amused expression. Hermione narrowed her eyebrows. "What is it?"

She shook her head, suddenly more interested in playing with Crookshanks. "Nothing."

Hermione returned her gaze out the window with a frown. She wondered if her life could get anymore complicated.

* * *

**A/N: Please review if you've got any feedback or comments about the story, I love to hear what my readers think. Thanks so much!**


	4. Blaise Zabini

**19/05/2019 UPDATE*****

**I added an extra Hermione POV at the end of the last chapter as it didn't feel right at the beginning of this part. **

* * *

Monday couldn't come fast enough for Hermione. She spent the remainder of Sunday afternoon shut in her room reading _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms, _trying to distract herself from the unpleasantness of the morning.

Now awake with a fresh vigor, she had breezed through half her paperwork by lunch and was on her way for a quick break. The usual break room on her floor was still under construction after last month's pixie fiasco, so Hermione made her way down to the cafeteria on level one.

At midday, it was almost completely full. Hermione darted through the throng of workers until she made it to the end of the line. As she stood on her tiptoes to estimate how long it would take, somebody appeared beside her.

"How's it going, Granger?" The low tone of Blaise Zabini's voice piqued her interest.

Hermione planted her feet on the ground and took in the sight of her colleague. Hermione hadn't paid much attention to Zabini during school, only taking note when he chimed in with Malfoy to taunt her. However, she didn't doubt that whatever she thought about Blaise at Hogwarts, was not what she thought about him now. He hovered over her at about six foot two and dressed smart. His thick brown locks curled at his earlobes, accentuating his jawline, and his hazel eyes often felt like they were boring into her soul when they made contact.

Okay, so she found him somewhat physically attractive, you'd have to be blind to not see it. Aside from that, she didn't really know much about him. He worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a Hit Wizard and attended all the Ministry work functions she'd been to; all their interactions had been very limited.

"Hello, Zabini." she replied curtly. "I'm well thank you, and yourself?"

"Splendid, thanks for asking."

Blaise rocked on the balls of his feet. Hermione arched her eyebrow at him, wondering if there was going to be more than simple pleasantries exchanged.

"Did you want something?" She asked as they shuffled forward slightly.

The brunette tucked his hands in his pant pockets, giving her what looked like a contemplative expression. "Yes, actually. I wondered if you would accompany me to this Friday's work fundraiser."

Hermione felt like she'd been hit in the face. She blinked at him. Did he really just ask _her _that? Gobsmacked, she managed to get out, "What fundraiser?"

"The one for the Implementation of Rightful Law for Magical Creatures event." he deadpanned. When she failed to answer him Blaise added, "I thought you knew about it, given you work in the DRCMC."

"Oh!" Hermione blundered. Of course she knew about it, she was on the committee for nearly a year for Godric's sake. "Yes, sorry, I blanked for a moment."

Blaise nodded earnestly. "So… will you come with me? Or are you and Weasley still, y'know, a thing?"

She felt her cheeks starting to heat, momentarily forgetting that the whole European Wizarding world knew about her and Ron's relationship. She'd go as far to say that the press were almost as distressed as she was when they first separated.

"Heavens no, we aren't together anymore." Hermione laughed nervously. "This Friday… hmm."

Clearly picking up on her hesitation, Blaise spoke. "Tell you what, how about you owl me your answer by the end of the day? That way if you turn me down you don't have to feel bad about hurting my feelings."

A genuine smile formed at his charm and she nodded. "That sounds good."

"Fantastic. I'll wait for your owl." Blaise gave her a gentlemanly bow and departed.

Hermione reached the start of the line, rather confused at what just happened. It wasn't as if she considered herself unattractive or ignorant to the male gaze, but propositions like this were typically the last thing on her mind. She wasn't interested in one-off hookups, but didn't feel the need for a romantic relationship to be content with her life. Although, that felt like a lie as of late. Witnessing Ginny and Harry's relationship progress had caused something to switch on inside her and she didn't know how to feel about it. She had never placed her self worth on somebody else's opinion, though the creeping feeling of loneliness was getting louder. Maybe she should branch out a little.

"A black bean burrito please." She told the food attendant and paid.

* * *

Hermione returned to her office with a skip in her step. She settled at her desk, prepared to tackle the rest of her work, when she noticed a familiar face in an unfamiliar background.

Draco Malfoy stood with his back to her, currently in deep conversation with one of her managers. His blond hair was swept back and Hermione could see the dark ink of his tattoo sleeve through his white shirt.

Her mind wandered back to the last time she saw Malfoy in person. It was nearly nine months beforehand at the grand final Holyhead Harpies Quidditch game, and she had gone reluctantly in support of Ginny. During a time-out, Hermione was heading to the bar for a refill when she, quite literally, crashed into Malfoy, spilling his pint in the process.

"Watch it!" He began, flicking the beer off his shoes despite the onslaught of rain that had drenched the entire stadium. "Oh- Granger. Suppose you're here with Weasley."

Put off by the scent of a lingering cigarette, Hermione frowned in disgust. She opened her mouth to correct him when he cut her off.

"Wait, I heard you split up, so you're here _for _Weasley then." Draco shook his head disapprovingly. "Shame it is for him, not like he can do any better- and that's not an insult to you, by the way."

It was at this point she realised that Draco was hammered. His bloodshot eyes were looking right through her, his hair clinging to his hollow face from the rain. The Malfoy name hadn't been in the news for some time at that point - which must have been a reprieve for him, but his appearance said otherwise.

Hermione squared her shoulders. "I'm here to support Ginny, if you must know, she is the captain of the team after all."

Draco scoffed. "Well, I'd doubt you'd be here for the gambling. I'm seriously regretting putting one hundred Galleons on Puddlemere, shocking game they're playing tonight."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, not all of us can be out spending our parent's money, Malfoy. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

The wizard grabbed her by the arm, holding her there. "Granger, I mean it. You're way out of his league."

She glowered at him and tugged her arm away. "Leave me alone, Malfoy."

The memory flashed by in her mind and when she came to, Draco was walking in her direction. She fiddled with something on her desk, hoping to avoid conversation.

"No need to pretend you weren't looking, Granger. Everyone knows I've got a fantastic arse." Draco quipped as he reached her station.

Flushing, Hermione quickly hopped to her defense. "You're such a pig, Malfoy." Wow, could she have come up with anything more pathetic? She cleared her throat. "What are you even doing here?"

"Ladylike as usual. Unsurprisingly, the Ministry is free to visit for all magical folk and I am attending to some business." He countered. "But if you must know why I'm here in particular, I'm picking up the latest legislative news on House-Elf ownership."

She scrutinised him. Given he was on the recently generated files of families with House-Elves, it wasn't that far of a stretch. Hermione suspected since the Malfoy name had been under such a bright spotlight the past few years they were playing by the rules now.

Reaching for a folder, she faked a look at her watch. "Well, I'm sure you have enough money in your pocket to spare a wage for an impressionable creature."

Draco gave a sigh. "You might want to reign that tongue in Granger, you may need to deal with me in a more civil manner sooner than you think."

Before she could summon a decent glare, Malfoy left the office, leaving her with a bubbling rage. What did he mean by that? Surely he was just pulling her wand. He knew how to push her buttons so well, after all. It wasn't as if he'd subject himself to a job in the Ministry, let alone the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. But the way he said it made it seem he knew something she didn't.

Scowling at the folder, Hermione resigned herself to her work.

* * *

The Hit Wizard office was deadly silent at five past three. From what Draco could see, nobody was in aside from an intern. The desks appeared almost abandoned, and pinned flyers overlaid with new ones on the cork boards hung still. He approached the black haired receptionist, unable to ignore the burn scars covering half her face.

"I'm here to see Blaise Zabini." He stated.

The receptionist kept her focus on the newspaper in her hands and spoke without looking at him.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, but-"

"You'll have to schedule an appointment with Mr Zabini." She said boredly, flicking a page over.

Draco narrowed his eyebrows. "Can you please tell him that Draco Malfoy is here to see him?"

A sigh came from behind the paper. The witch put it down on the desk and gave him a magnificent glare. "Listen here, kid, I don't care who you are or what you're here for. Does it look like anyone qualified is here to contend with whatever issue you have? No. So if I were you I'd make an appointment and come back-"

"Verity." Blaise's voice called from a nearby portrait. "Let him through."

The receptionist looked over her shoulder at the wizard. He gave her a pointed look. Rolling her eyes, Verity returned her attention to Draco. She tore a piece of paper off a clipboard and passed it to him. "Visitor's pass only."

Draco took it and scuttled over to Blaise, resisting the urge to look behind him and flick the bird. Once they had reached far away enough, Draco snorted. "What was all that about?"

Blaise laughed out loud. "Verity? I wouldn't take it to heart. She's a new personality each week."

Draco pulled a face. "And what, this week she decided to unleash her inner Medusa?"

Down the hall they reached the door to Blaise's office labeled _Special Investigation Unit. _It was a small room, just enough space for workstations and two floor-to-ceiling file cabinets at the back. Four desks stood parallel to one another in the middle, all strewn with folders, uneaten lunches, and stationery items atop them. For a such a secretive unit in the Hit Wizard Squad they certainly worked in squalor. Draco made himself comfortable on the guest seat at Blaise's desk.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Blaise declared. "What's been going on? How's engaged life?"

Draco shrugged, stroking his stubble thoughtfully. "That long huh? Astoria and I aren't together anymore."

"Oh shit, what happened?" Blaise sat opposite him.

"I ended it. I don't want to get married, not to Astoria at least." Draco said simply.

"Narcissa must have had a coronary when you told her." His friend joked.

"What's a coronary?"

Blaise chuckled. "Muggle term. Regardless, are you going to tell me what happened or what?"

Draco shook his head. "I'd prefer not to relive it. It's all been very hush hush as you can expect."

"That's a shame, I needed you and her to be my double date for this Friday night."

"A double date? And what's this Friday night?" Draco queried.

His friend waved his hand dismissively. "Some Ministry shindig. I asked Hermione to come with me."

Draco stared at Blaise, flabbergasted. "You invited Hermione _Granger _to be your date? You're taking her to a Ministry of Magic event? After her break up with Weasley?"

Blaise leaned back in his chair, hands crossed behind his head. He smirked proudly. "It's been nearly a year since they split. I think it's time the Wizarding world accept she can move on, and that _I _am a suitable prospect."

Draco agreed silently, though for some reason it didn't sit well with him. "You never liked Granger during school, what changed?"

Blaise gave him a look as if to say _are you kidding me? _"What changed between you and Astoria?" Blaise retorted.

Draco sighed. He had him there. The issue with keeping your friends at an arm's length was that Blaise liked to give him a taste of his own medicine. "Personal differences." Draco answered. "Did Granger say yes to going with you?"

"Well…"

At that moment a black paper plane flew in through the fire grate and landed neatly in front of him. Blaise unfolded the piece of origami and read the letter. Draco watched him curiously.

"She says to pick her up at 7 o'clock Friday evening." Blaise said triumphantly.

Draco couldn't comprehend what was happening right in front of him. Since when did Blaise have a thing for Granger? And why would he? She was still as stubborn, prideful, and snooty as she had been during their school years. Sure, he didn't have much contact with the witch nowadays, but she still acted as indifferently to him as she used to.

"You'll catch flies, Draco." Blaise said, still smirking.

"I just don't understand why you're interested in her is all."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "If you're referring to her heritage, that kind of thing doesn't bother me anymore. Once upon a time I was a naive kid told to think certain things about certain people." He stated, searching for a piece of parchment and quill to write back. "I had no choice but to grow up and decide for myself how I thought. Muggles aren't nearly as bad as you think, Draco."

Draco tutted. "You know I don't think that way anymore either, Blaise. It just seems out of the blue is all…"

"So does your break-up with Astoria."

Blaise scribbled his reply, bewitched the parchment, and threw it at the grate.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for the delay in updating, my personal life has been a bit of a roller coaster this past fortnight. However, I love the few theories sent to me from the reviews of last chapter. Please review if you enjoyed this chapter!**


	5. The Armada

The consistent sound of a buzzing needle was what irritated Draco the most about getting a new tattoo. He could handle the pain, even the sight of his own blood, but that damned noise left a ringing in his ears for nearly hours later. He'd been holed up in there since four o'clock and was ready to get out and listen to something other than what the Muggles called 'heavy metal' music.

He stepped out of the shop with Blaise and Theodore by his side, his foot automatically landing in a puddle.

"Ugh!" Draco shook his foot then groaned as he felt the rainwater seep through his sock.

"Watch where you're stepping, eh, Draco?" Theo sniggered.

"Shut it, Nott." He muttered. "Come on, let's get out of the cold, there's a pub down the road."

They marched their way along the street, avoiding the water sprays from oncoming cars, until they reached _The Armada _on the corner. It was a tudor style hotel that served a good steak which Draco found a few years back. Eager to get out of the crisp air, Draco led the way inside and straight to the bar.

The trio settled comfortably on the stools and Theo ordered a round of tequila. The barmaid, a pretty blonde, returned his request with a smile and lined up four shot glasses.

"Salt and lime boys?" she asked, pouring the Blanco with an expert hand.

"I think we can handle it." Theo sent a wink in her direction.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself. I still haven't recovered since the last time we went out."

"I doubt you would have given we spent half the evening carrying Theo's drunk ass around." Blaise quipped with a grin.

"I have no recollection of that." Theo replied, sprinkling salt on the back of his wrist. "Besides, weren't you the one who threw up on that bird's shoes, Blaise?"

"You weren't even there when that happened!" Blaise pointed out defensively.

Theo shook his head, chuckling proudly. He pulled out his wallet and paid, and the group of them downed their shots in one. Draco shuddered as the liquid burned his throat going down. The barlady removed the glasses and launched into conversation with Blaise and Theodore about the weather.

Draco looked down at the cling film wrapped around his arm protecting his latest work of art. It was a neo traditional style anchor and was the second last piece to complete his sleeve.

After the war the infamous Malfoy name brought humiliation and disgrace where ever he went. For once he wanted to be out of the limelight and live a normal life, but how could he do that with the hideous Dark mark branded onto his skin? So he set to work researching any ways to remove it. Months of experimenting with potions, charms, even curses, but half a year later he had nothing to show for it. The mark was blacker than a crow in a coal mine. Over time he accepted that he would have to live with the thing and that would be that, but one day, tripping over drunk at this very pub, he spotted a Muggle covered head to toe in tattoos. Draco got one that very night. It was a traditional ship he chose right off the wall and three hours later, half of his Dark Mark was covered. He felt so relieved he cried a little.

Since then he'd been adding to his collection every few months. He didn't know many wizards who liked tattoos, in fact both Blaise and Theo had expressed their disapproval on more than one occasion, but for once, he was okay with it.

"You alright, mate?" Blaise was asking, sliding a beer along the bar to him.

Draco nodded and took a swig from the bottle. "How far in is he?" he gestured to Theo chatting up the barlady.

Blaise shrugged. "Can't tell yet, but five galleons says she turns him down by the end of the night."

"You are so on." Draco smirked then they shook hands.

* * *

When Hermione arrived home from work that night, she was surprised to find what looked like half the room packed away in boxes. Removing her shoes, she called out to her housemate.

"Ginny?"

The redhead materialised from her bedroom, hidden behind the stack of boxes she was carrying. "Here!"

"You know there are more efficient ways of doing this?" Hermione strode over to help.

Ginny struggled as she regripped the box. "I know, but it's got all my china in it and I don't want to-"

She trailed off as the box slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground, landing with a great CRASH! She sighed and kicked the cardboard out of frustration. "I wanted to avoid that happening."

The witches kneeled in front of the wreckage to assess the damage. All the dishes, save one, had shattered from the impact. Some bits had wedged themselves into the carpet. Crookshanks came over to inspect what was happening but Hermione chased him away.

"An easy fix!" Hermione drew her wand and waved it. "Reparo."

The broken glass repaired themselves within seconds and sat neatly in a row on the floor. Hermione turned to Ginny. "So what's going on?"

The other woman remained quiet for another moment or two. Hermione could tell she was nervous to tell her about it by the way she was biting her lip.

"Well, it happened so quickly, I haven't really had a chance to tell anybody to be honest." Ginny started, putting the china back into the box while avoiding her gaze. "Harry bought a house in Godric's Hollow and, well, we figured since we're engaged that we should move in together."

"Oh…" Hermione felt her heart sink. Ginny was being serious that night at Harry's birthday party? She couldn't wrap her head around the idea. Feeling her best friend's eyes now weighing her reaction, she spoke again.."When are you moving in?"

"Tomorrow." Ginny reached for her hands and held them tight. "Look, Hermione, I know it's fast and maybe a little impulsive, but I love Harry. We want to spend the rest of our lives together and if the war taught me anything it was to grab life by the horns and just go for it, because you might not get the chance tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, surprised at Ginny's sudden burst of intensity. The words she was speaking were true, Hermione wouldn't fault her for that, but she couldn't help selfishly thinking _what about me? _She'd relied on Ginny more than anybody else the past couple of years. She was her confidant, her partner in crime. How many evenings had they spent together washing down heartache with a bottle of rum? All those mornings spent in front of the toilet, and nights lighting up joints with the Patil sisters at house parties. All the times when Hermione could hardly get out of bed due to her crippling depression and Ginny pulled until they got something done. Was that all going to end? Hermione had never been great at sisterhood, but Ginny had been by her side since the beginning. She wasn't ready for this chapter to end.

Hermione blinked and found herself crying softly. She wiped a tear away, feeling pathetic.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I am happy for you, truly." She sniffled.

"Then why are you crying?" Ginny asked, summoning a box of tissues.

Hermione took one. "Thanks." She muttered, blowing her nose. "I'm just… worried about the future is all. It feels like everything is changing right in front of my eyes and I can't stop it."

"You don't need to stop it." Ginny pulled her into a hug and stroked her hair. "It's okay to be scared. No one really knows what they're doing, but that's okay because we'll always have each other. Alright?"

Hermione nodded weakly.

"Good." Ginny planted a kiss on her head and pulled back. "Now pass me that scotch."

Hermione reached behind her and dug out the bottle from one of the boxes. Ginny poured a substantial amount of the brown liquid into two tea cups then raised one to her lips, taking a sip. "Tell me about your day."

Sighing, she took the other cup and drained half of it before she launched into the tale of her work day. Her encounter with Blaise, how she considered it being a Slytherin prank set-up ("You know we're all adults now, right?" Ginny interjected), then seeing Draco Malfoy in her office and his cryptic threat toward her, all up to her deciding to agree to be Zabini's date.

"...So really, if it goes bad then I can just bail and refuse to have anything to do with him ever again."

"And what if it goes well?" Ginny asked with a devilish grin.

Hermione flushed. "What do you mean 'what if it goes well'? If it does then that's great."

"Oh, come _on, _Hermione. Zabini may not be my first choice, but he's definitely a looker. Probably not on the same scale as Viktor Krum, but he's miles ahead of Mclaggen."

"I will keep my options open." She replied carefully. "I make no promises on anything. We have to make sure he doesn't stand me up first."

Ginny rolled her eyes at her pessimism. "Zabini asked _you _out, Hermione, without any first-hand encouragement, I might add. I seriously doubt he will stand you up, and if he does then he'll have me to deal with."

Hermione looked doubtful at her scotch. She wasn't completely convinced that Zabini's interest in her came solely from a romantic place. As she didn't know his side of the story she could come up with as many ridiculous theories as she wanted, but it was probably better to let it go. Who knows what could happen?

"Thanks, Gin." She took a sip of the scotch, internally wincing. She preferred rum. "Will you help me prepare for it?"

Ginny nodded enthusiastically. "Of course I will! Harry and I are going anyway so we can get ready together at our new place in Godric's Hollow. How does that sound?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude." Hermione hesitated.

"As if you could ever do that." Ginny said. "It'll be a good time to sort my wardrobe out." she added with a wink.

Hermione giggled. "If you say so."

* * *

As it turned out, Friday was _not _a good time to be sorting her best friend's wardrobe. At five to seven in the evening, Ginny was still running around the house, stumbling over boxes trying to find a jade hair pin. "I swear to Merlin, Harry, if you've lost my pin during the move I will curse your Firebolt!"

Hermione sat in the kitchen and was sipping nervously on a gin and tonic, trying to control her anxiety. Blaise would be arriving to escort her to the event at any minute and she still hadn't figured out how she was going to play it. Ginny offered her advice throughout the day in case certain situations arose, but it was no use. This was something she simply couldn't prepare for. Hermione stirred her gin apprehensively.

"Found it!" Ginny announced from the bathroom. A second later the redhead strode in, tucking the pin in the back of her bun. She was clad in a tightly wrapped gown that was dark as midnight that showed off her athletic build, whereas Hermione had opted for a slinky dress complete with a turtleneck. "Are we nearly ready?"

Hermione knocked back the remainder of her drink. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Oh cheer up, Hermione," Harry put the glass in the dishwasher. "What's the worst thing that could happen?"

"Well.. I could embarrass myself in front of the whole department with a botched date, just like our fourth year during the Triwizard Cup-"

"-Which isn't going to happen. We aren't at school anymore." Ginny interrupted. She came over and fiddled with Hermione's turtleneck. "You're going to be fine."

"I don't know." Hermione folded her arms.

"You _need _this, Hermione." Ginny held her by the shoulders. "Yes, it's something different, but different is good. Just live a little."

She gave a defeated sigh. There would be no convincing Ginny otherwise. Hermione nodded. "Okay."

It was that moment that the doorbell called for their attention. Hermione snapped her gaze to the door and could feel the colour draining from her face.

"I'll get it." Ginny said. "Harry, are you ready to go?"

"Got our coats right here." He brandished them.

Ginny floated out of sight to answer the door. Hermione could hear her pleasant voice welcoming Blaise into the house. "Right on time, Blaise, I think she's just finished getting ready now."

Hermione hopped off the stool, suddenly feeling insecure about how she looked.

Blaise appeared in the kitchen, hovering by the doorway. "Wow, Hermione, you look fantastic." He remarked in a gentlemanly manner.

She gave a shy smile and took in the sight of him. He wore a perfectly tailored three piece suit which was a charcoal colour with dark blue accents on his tie and handkerchief. Hermione was curious as to why he chose such a Muggle fashion style, but there was no doubt that he wore it extremely well. "Thank you, so do you."

Blaise chuckled. "You flatter me. Shall we get going?"

"Definitely, I'll just put my coat on." Hermione slipped on her jacket then joined everyone at the front door.

Blaise reached his arm out to her and she faltered for a moment. The brunette sent her a kind smile. "No funny business, I promise."

Hermione giggled nervously. She took a breath and told herself to calm down. It was going to be okay. She gripped onto his arm and felt Blaise turn on the spot.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter. I didn't want to give you information overload with all this plus the date, so sit tight for chapter six! Please review if you're enjoying the story so far, want to give me feedback, or if you have any theories on what's coming next!**


	6. Late Night Ice Cream

"So how do you feel about that?"

Despite the London storm - which didn't sound like it was stopping any time soon - Emily Park's office was cosy and fire by his left roared with heat and he could hear the pitter patter of rain against the window panes behind him. The orange flames reflected faintly on the medic's pale skin.

"Well…" Draco looked away, watching the stream of umbrellas bobbing on the street below them.

His thoughts wandered to the Ministry shindig that started six minutes ago. More specifically, he wondered how Blaise and Granger's date had kicked off. Blaise was being infuriatingly secretive about the whole thing and his motives. So secretive that when Draco pressed Blaise for further details he was put in his place and told it wasn't any of his business. Draco supposed that was true, but given him and Granger were going to be work colleagues (something he'd neglected to mention to her), he felt the need to be in the loop.

"Draco?" The medic pushed him for a response.

He returned his gaze to the woman sitting opposite him. She was looking at him expectantly.

Draco shifted in his seat. "I don't know. She despises me and for a good reason. It's not like I can expect her to put everything behind us and forget about it if I apologise."

"Why do you think that?"

"I doubt she'll think I'm being genuine." He replied honestly. "And why would she be interested anyway? I've made my bed and now I have to lie in it."

"That's a very severe way of looking at it." She noted. "Perhaps if you were to tell her that you'll be work-colleagues then her position on the matter might change - if that is what she even feels. Would you be willing to try that?"

He shrugged. "I don't see how it would help, but maybe."

She nodded, scribbling in her book. "Let's make that as goal between now and our next session, and we can discuss how it went if you're open to it."

"Okay."

"Is there anything else you'd like to talk about today? We still have fifteen minutes left."

Draco wracked his brains for a moment. There was always plenty to talk about with Emily. Whether it be his mother, father, the Dark Lord, Astoria, his drinking habits... but right now - for some unknown reason - he could _not _get returning to Hogwarts with Granger out of his head. It plagued every free second he had. He couldn't figure out why it was such a daunting prospect to him, or why he felt so curious about Blaise's interest in her either. Draco had barely seen Granger, let alone spoke to her for the past several years, so why was this such an issue? It was maddening.

He shook his head. "No, thank you, Emily. I've got to get going anyway."

"Okay." Emily flicked her wand and the room fluttered with light.

Draco slipped his arms into his coat which had hovered over to him. He grasped his cane off the hook hanging by the grate, fixed his collar, and strode to the door.

"Enjoy your evening, Draco. I'll see you at our next appointment so take care until then." She said curtly, chaperoning him over.

"Thank you, Emily, and you too."

* * *

Some time around nine o'clock, Hermione and Blaise stood in a group among politicians along with the Minister of Magic, having a lively conversation about the recent Welsh Green fiasco.

"-And you should have seen poor Archie's face, Minister! He went as pale as milk!" Thaddeus Thatch remarked with a merry laugh. "I could have knocked him flat with a feather."

"Oh, put a sock in it, Ted." Archie the intern - a skinny wizard who recently graduated from Hogwarts - replied dryly. "I didn't tell anybody about the time you fell face-first into a bucket of maggots at old Merrywerth's place."

Thaddeus' cheeks smouldered red. "I don't recall this."

"No? I could have sworn I saw you eat a few. Ringing a bell?" Archie quipped, sipping his champagne.

The group made a sound of disgust in unison. Hermione shuddered at the thought.

"Lighten up, Thatch, we're just having a bit of fun." Amos Diggory patted his shoulder sympathetically.

Clearly wanting the attention off him, Thaddeus looked at Hermione. "How did you find the situation with the dragon, Miss Granger? I've heard it wasn't your first rodeo."

It was Hermione's turn to blush now. If only they knew. "I'm just glad we got there in time before any harm was done." she replied. "To human or creature."

"Ahh, very diplomatic." Thaddeus noted. "Well, now, none of this would have happened if that ghastly woman, Vera, hadn't put her nose in it…"

Blaise leaned in to Hermione and whispered in her ear. "You're smarter than all of these old buffoons. Tell them."

Still flushing, Hermione whispered back. "You don't know the half of it."

"Then tell me?"

She gave him a pointed look.

Blaise smirked. "Excuse us, gentlemen." He gave a slight bow then steered Hermione away from the group. They wandered through the crowd of witches and wizards, keeping to the outskirts of the dancing. "Are you enjoying your evening?"

She considered his question. Well, Hermione knew now that her earlier fretting had been for nothing. Blaise had been nothing but a gentleman to her ever since they left Godric's Hollow. He was as charming as a lord, and somehow knew how to make her laugh until she cried. He'd bring her a new drink without being asked, had introduced her to what felt like all his colleagues and friends, and they even indulged in a slow dance together after the official welcoming from the department heads. Without hesitation, Hermione nodded.

"I am, yes. Though I'm a little peckish."

"Shall I fetch you something to eat? Some cheese to go with your wine? Or strawberries?"

"That would be-" Hermione stopped mid-sentence.

In the corner of her eye she recognised a tall figure appear through one of the grates. His blonde hair was slicked back as usual and he was dressed in a dashing set of silver robes. He marched into the party with a determined look on his face, clutching onto his zebra patterned cane. What was Malfoy doing here? He never came to these events. At least, she'd never seen him at one.

"Actually, I'll get it, you've been at my beck and call all night, it's my turn. What can I get you?"

"I'm happy with whatever." Blaise said.

"Okay, back in a minute." Hermione placed her glass on a nearby waiter's tray and ducked away, heading in the opposite direction of Malfoy.

The last thing she wanted was Malfoy to see her with one of his best friend's as a date, although no doubt he already knew. Regardless, best to avoid him as much as possible. She had a hard time being civil with him as it was.

Hermione stalked through the party, wanting to get Malfoy off her mind already. Halfway to her destination she noticed a familiar wisp of red hair just meters away. _Out of the frying pan and into the fire..._

Ron trotted over. "Hey, Hermione."

"Hi, Ron." she replied, keeping her eyes trained on the buffet.

"You look amazing tonight." He claimed.

She kept up her pace, ignoring him.

"Hermione, please wait." He blocked her path. "I want to apologise for what happened last weekend."

Hermione stopped in her tracks. She found it hard to deny his earnest expression. "I'm listening."

Ron continued. "I acted like a jerk. I have no right to tell you what to do with your life and I'm really sorry for being selfish and getting mad about it. Do you think we could put it behind us?"

Hermione sighed. She could tell he was being sincere. They'd been friends long enough for her to know that he wanted to reconcile because he was probably hurting a lot more under the surface. Admittedly, it was the same for her. Getting through the week had been easy enough when she could fill her head and hands with work, but when she was surrounded by silence the voices in her head were deafening.

She missed spending time with Ron. She missed the sound of his laughter, his passion for Quidditch, the goofy grin on his face when he was eating. But above all, she missed his company. Things would never be the same between them, but maybe that was okay.

"Alright." Hermione answered. "I forgive you. But _never _do it again. Or I might just hex you."

She couldn't help but chuckle at his grin appearing. "Thank you, Hermione." Ron pulled her into a hug and she returned it happily. The weight she wasn't aware of on her chest dissipated. When they pulled away, Katie Bell had emerged. She was sporting a new haircut, shaved at the side.

"Oh, hello, Katie." Hermione blushed. "I haven't seen you in a long time. How are you?"

"I'm great, thanks for asking. You look incredible, Hermione. Did you do your hair?"

"Ginny helped me with it." She admitted, alreading wanting to get off the topic of her appearance. Could they not talk about something more dignified than looks? "I heard about your injury. What happened?"

Katie hoisted up her dress and showed off the magnificent scar running from her thigh to her calf. It had to be at least four inches wide and was maroon in colour. "Rogue bludger. The rehabilitation is taking longer than we hoped, but you should have seen it when I came off the pitch."

"It was… the bone?"

"Broke right through." Katie dropped the green material. "I thought I was going to die from the pain."

Hermione resisted the urge to shudder. She was glad she wasn't present at the quidditch game. From what she could recall it was a friendly match between some of the players during their Hogwarts days (Harry, Ron, and Ginny included) just four months ago. Ginny had come home as pale as a sheet.

"That must have been awful. Are you okay now?"

"I'm much better. The Healers are saying I'll get out on the pitch any day."

"I'm certain you will. Did you bring a date tonight?" Hermione asked.

"Oh," Katie looked flustered. "Well, Ron invited me. I er thought you knew."

Hermione glanced back and forth between the two; Ron was blushing. "Of course I knew," she spluttered. "Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind today. Well, I'll leave you both to it, I need to rejoin my date anyway. Enjoy the rest of the night."

She gave Ron a pat on the shoulder as she brushed past and beelined to the buffet. Filling up a plate of pastries, cheese, and fruits, Hermione observed Ron and Katie innocently. They appeared to be chatting about Quidditch going by Ron's flamboyant hand gestures. Hermione wondered what made Ron ask Katie out. She wasn't even aware he was coming, and Harry and Ginny didn't mention knowing anything about it either. Hermione nibbled on some camembert.

Tonight felt so peculiar. For one, her date with Blaise was going well (much to her surprise), and now Ron was pulling the moves on Katie Bell not ten meters away. She wondered what Malfoy was here for. Whoever it was she was glad to be shot of him. She only had so much patience for somebody who so often begged to be teased.

She shoved in a final strawberry before setting off to find Blaise. He was by the bar, holding two fresh glasses of champagne with raspberry garnishes. She brandished the plate at him.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I got a bit of everything." She told him apologetically.

"For future reference, I'll eat just about anything, but fruit pies-" He grabbed one and took a bite. "Are my favourite."

Hermione smiled appreciatively and took one of the glasses off his hands. "Are you happy with how the evening has turned out so far?" He queried.

The Implementation of Rightful Law for Magical Creatures event had been bookmarked in Hermione's journal for nearly four months, but it admittedly took a backseat the last couple of weeks since the dragon incident and her sudden decision in a career change. Despite that, she was content with the night. Nothing had gone awry (nothing brought to her attention, at least). The funk band was playing magnificently, the food delectable, and the turnout twice as higher than anticipated. She might actually leave her job on a high note.

She nodded. "I think I am. Yes. Are you?"

Blaise grinned down at her. "I'm happy to be getting to know you."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Oh?"

"It's intriguing watching the cogs turn in your mind." He explained. "Why you feel a certain way about certain topics, how you present yourself to other people, how you look when you think nobody is watching. It's interesting to see."

She rubbed her neck gently. "So what's your conclusion?"

He reached down and tuck a string of stray hair behind her ear. "I think-"

"Well, well!" At that moment, Malfoy shrugged himself through the crowd and stepped into their conversation. "If it isn't my best mate and the War Heroine: Hermione Granger!"

Hermione groaned inwardly. Just why?

"Hello, Draco." Blaise greeted his friend politely with a hug. "You didn't tell me you were coming tonight."

"That's because I didn't know until an hour ago." Malfoy stated with fervour.

"Then why are you here?" Hermione chided. "I don't recall you being on the guest list."

"But I thought all witches and wizards with a House-Elf in their service was welcome to this event, Granger?" He rifled through his breast pocket and retrieved a pink flyer she remembered Archie sending out several weeks ago. "Or am I mistaken?"

She bit her lip. "I assumed you wouldn't be interested."

"I drop by the office for all the latest news and legislation, as you're aware of, so why wouldn't I be interested?" He rebutted.

"Alright, you two, put your fangs back in." Blaise said warningly. "Did you bring anybody?"

"No, I doubt I'll be staying long so I don't have any need to entertain."

Hermione snorted to herself. "If I could just borrow your date for a second, Blaise?"

She stared at Malfoy wide-eyed. What could he possibly want with her? Trust him to want to ruin her night for his own personal amusement.

"Of course." Blaise smiled at her then departed.

She scowled at Malfoy as soon as Blaise was out of earshot. "What do you want?"

"Ouch, Granger. Skipping the formalities then?"

"I've already heard enough cheek from you, Malfoy. I'm not interested in knowing why you're here, nor am I interested in hearing your opinion about my Muggle blood tainting Blaise."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Wow, and Slytherin has a reputation for holding grudges and making harsh judgements. Do you talk to everyone this way?"

"Only people who've caused me a great deal of trouble." She hissed

"Thank you for holding on to all of that, Granger, you're really making this easy. I haven't had a dressing down like this since I was a child."

"Perhaps if you acted like an adult then you wouldn't need to be dressed down." What had gotten into her? She dealt with his snarky comments for years, but never acted out like this before. She couldn't stop the words spewing from her mouth.

"You know, Granger, I actually came here to apologise to you, but I can't even get a word in between all your unsolicited chastising." Malfoy snapped.

That took her aback. She narrowed her brows feeling suspicious. "Apologise for what?"

A moment of silence fell between them and for a second all she could hear was the pounding of her heart.

"You know what? Forget about it." He growled. "You wouldn't care, or believe me for that matter."

She gritted her teeth. "Given I have no idea what you're talking about Malfoy, you're probably right."

"Whatever, Granger." Draco turned on his heel and stormed off.

Overwhelmed with frustration, anger, and a sense of irkness, Hermione stomped. She glared at the silver-haired man until she couldn't see him anymore then resigned herself to a nearby chair. Where did he get off saying he wanted to apologise then leaving without further explanation? It wasn't like she was going to beg him for his apology, whatever it was for. However, she also couldn't believe she went off like that. She felt like a bomb going off at the slightest provocation. Perhaps this adventurous turn she'd taken with her life was a little bit too much.

Next moment, Ginny and Harry appeared.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" Ginny sat by her side.

Could she not get a moment of peace? She shook her head and took a long sip of her champagne. "Nothing, I'm okay."

"You're a terrible liar."

She sighed. "It's just- ugh, Malfoy. We had a fight."

"What?" Harry chimed. "Malfoy? Since when did he get here?"

"About ten minutes ago." Hermione frowned.

"What did he want?" Asked Ginny.

Hermione sipped some more. "I don't really know. We didn't get to the point of it in the end. He said he came to apologise to me, but I don't know what."

"He wanted to apologise. Where did that come from?"

"I have no idea." She shrugged. "It was completely out of the blue."

"Well, where's Blaise?" Harry queried.

"I'm not sure. He left when Malfoy asked if he could talk to me alone." Hermione stared at the dregs in her glass.

The couple shared a look and Harry disappeared into the throng of people. Ginny took Hermione's hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. It's just Malfoy being Malfoy."

"Do you want another drink?" Ginny offered her drink.

"No thanks, I'm okay." Better not, she thought to herself, she could already feel her movements getting slower.

A minute later Harry returned with a concerned looking Blaise. Hermione stood when she saw him, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

"Are you alright, Hermione?"

She nodded weakly. "I'm fine."

Blaise turned to the others. "I'll take care of her. Thanks, Harry."

Ginny gave Hermione's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Let me know when you get home, okay?"

She waved goodbye to them then looked up at Blaise, shuffling from one foot to the other. She gave him a guilty look.

Blaise chuckled and wrapped his arm around her briefly. "Come on, you. Let's get an ice cream."

"Ice cream?" She arched a brow.

"Why not?" He shrugged.

He was offering an opportunity to get away from what just happened. There was nothing she needed to stay for, all her duties of the night were checked off, so why not? Although, she needed a moment to compose herself. It was awkward after her outburst now that Blaise was dealing with the fallout. The least she could do was get a grip of herself and not let Malfoy effect the rest of her night.

"Sure." Hermione smiled. "Let me get my coat."

* * *

The gas lamps along the boardwalk guided their journey to the ice cream parlour somewhere in Bayswater. They'd been quiet since leaving the Ministry, but not uncomfortably so. Blaise hadn't addressed what happened at the party yet, and Hermione wasn't going to be the one to bring it up.

She felt calmer being outside. The breeze was cool but the water below them was as still as a statue.

"So tell me…" Blaise started.

"Uh oh. What?" Hermione asked.

"What's your favourite flavour of ice cream?"

"Definitely chocolate. I don't even have to think about it. What about you?"

"I'm a vanilla man." He admitted. "But drenched in strawberry sauce."

"Well, I'm buying." Hermione told him as she walked into the parlour, Blaise at her feet.

"Modern woman, huh?" Blaise grinned.

"I am perfectly capable of buying us both ice cream." Hermione ordered at the counter and turned to him. "So how did you find this place? It's quite tucked away."

"Not long ago actually. Ended up here after a night out drinking. It's one of my favourite places to go when it's late."

"Are you a bit of a night owl?" She passed the money to the server.

"Occasionally." Blaise shrugged. "When I was younger I could sleep like a baby. Nowadays it's not that simple."

Hermione made a sigh of agreement. That was all too relatable. Her sleep pattern was more reliable and consistent recently, but just a year or two ago it was all over the place. The nightmares still plagued her occasionally, but she had Ginny to sleep with when it came to it. At least, she used to. Would things never stop changing?

They attendant handed them their ice creams and the couple settled down on a bench outside.

"You're much different than I thought." She announced.

Blaise glanced at her mid-lick of his ice cream. "How do you mean?"

"Sorry, that was a little blunt." She laughed nervously. "I just didn't expect tonight to go this way. I'm pleasantly surprised."

"Let me guess, you expected me to be snobbish and snide and prideful?"

"Oh- well, not like that-" She spluttered.

"-Relax, Hermione." He smirked. "I'm only joking."

She punched his arm lightly. "Don't play with me like that."

Blaise laughed out loud. "It's so easy with you Gryffindor's though!"

Hermione pouted. "Oh, there, there, Hermione. No need to be like that." He scooted over and put his arm over her shoulders, tucking her closer.

"And I suppose you Slytherin's are much harder to get under your skin?"

He snorted. "On the surface, maybe. But we do have feelings. Some people seem to forget that we're human too." Blaise gazed at the river, his eyes fixed on some swans floating by.

"That must have been hard." Hermione claimed.

"What?"

"Having an entire school disliking you because of what house you were in."

"Well," he returned to his ice cream, "I wouldn't say the _entire _school disliked me. I wouldn't say I was worthy of everyone liking me either. It was a different time back then. We were kids. By-products of a grieving generation who needed a scapegoat."

"You're very eloquent, you know?"

Blaise shrugged. "Insight is underrated. Now, enough deep talk. You'd better finish your chocolate because I've got you a treat."

"What kind of treat?"

"Finish your ice cream first!"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head, and got down the last few bitefuls. She wiped her mouth on her napkin. "Okay, I'm done. What is it?"

His hand disappeared into his pocket and pulled out a silver flask. "You brought alcohol to event with free alcohol?" She guffawed.

"Correction: they supplied free _champagne. _Big difference."

"Oh, la-de-dah."

He opened the lid and passed it to her. She took a whiff then winced. "Brown liquor?"

"Just try it."

Hermione rolled her eyes, an amused grin on her face. "Fine." Bringing the flask to her lips, she took a tentative sip. "Hmm. Spiced rum? It's actually not bad."

"Pardon me, this is one of the finest spiced rums made today!" Blaise stated as matter-of-factly. She passed it back and he took a swig. "Just one bottle is worth fifty Galleons!"

"Godric. I'm glad I don't spend my hard-earned income on liquor. Seems like a waste to me."

"Well, if you don't want any-"

"-I didn't say that!" She snatched it off him, laughing.

Blaise returned her smirk then leaned in, placing a kiss on her head. "Have as much as you like."

Hermione could feel the heat on her chest rising again. "Thank you." she had a long swig, downing as much as possible, feeling Blaise's eye on her.

What would Ginny say to Hermione if she was watching this moment?

She returned the flask to him and shrugged off her jacket, placing it on the seat beside her. "Let's play a game."

* * *

"I had an amazing time tonight, thank you so much." Hermione said with a bright smile when they arrived at her front door.

"Thank you for agreeing to be my date." Blaise responded, standing above her. "It was my pleasure, honestly."

It was like she was seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses. Her body felt light and she was having trouble standing still, but as she stared into Blaise's hazel eyes, she stayed grounded. Her heart thumped against her chest loudly. It was so loud she was convinced he could hear it.

"Do you want to come in for coffee?" Hermione hiccuped.

His charming smile returned. "That would be great."

Feeling something in her stomach flutter, Hermione unlocked the door and led him in to the flat. She flicked on the wall lights and made way to the kitchen, starting the coffee.

"Help yourself to anything." she called over her shoulder. "Bathroom is the first door on the right."

"Don't mind if I do." He said, disappearing down the hall.

Waiting for the kettle to boil, Hermione leaned against the counter and surveyed her apartment. Nearly a whole week since Ginny moved out. The first few days were so surreal. She spent most of it helping the couple move into their new place, going back and forth between London and Godric's Hollow several times a day. After that, she'd thrown herself into her work to avoid dealing with her feelings. She was so nervous about her date with Blaise and felt all over the place for the remainder of the week. Now here she was, drunk as a skunk, making coffee for him at her place just after midnight. She was still surprising herself.

Blaise returned and ambled into the kitchen, leaning against the counter opposite her. "You have a really nice place here, Hermione."

She shrugged. "I was very lucky. It's so central. And huge! I don't know what to do with all the space."

Her companion chuckled. "Get a hobby in interior design is my advice. You need to be able to show off what you have without making it feel lifeless."

"I am _useless _at that stuff. I don't have an ounce of creativeness in me. I prefer logic and reasoning." She announced with a dismissive hand.

Blaise pushed himself off the counter. "Well, you were certainly creative enough tonight coming up with that look." He gestured to her outfit.

Hermione rubbed her sweaty hands on her dress. He stepped closer, on the verge of invading her personal space. "Uh Ginny helped me with it. It took hours."

"I'm flattered you made such an effort for me." He noted. "You look ravishing."

She swallowed. Her mouth felt so dry.

Blaise took her hand in his and held it palm up. She observed him curiously, trying her hardest to ignore the pounding of her heart in her throat. He brought her hand to his lips then pressed a gently kiss to her wrist. Hermione let out a sigh. She cleared her throat softly. "Well… I couldn't very well appear um dishevelled-" she trailed off as he started kissing up her arm. Words were failing her. All she could concentrate on was the feel of his mouth against her skin.

Blaise hoisted her up on the counter and positioned himself between her legs. Continuing his ministrations, he reached her shoulder. "I love your perfume." he grunted in the crook of her neck. "You smell like vanilla."

"It's Victoria's Secret." Hermione whispered; as if it mattered. She tilted her head to the side as he made his way up to her earlobe. She gave a shuddering breath, the fluttering in her stomach coiling downward. She felt hyper aware of his fingers digging into her hips, how she wished they were elsewhere right now. "Salazar, Blaise…"

The kettle went off. He pulled back slightly. "Yes?" His eyes took in every detail of her face, darting between her eyes and her mouth.

Hermione bit her lip. "Just kiss me already."

Blaise smirked in the darkness and when he leaned in, she met his mouth eagerly.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in chapters! This is such a huge one with so much substance I had to write it in small chunks. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Please leave a review. I'm working super hard writing this as best as I can! **


	7. The Day After

The midday sun woke Hermione from her stupor with a fierce vengeance. Her mouth was as dry as a bone and her head felt like it would explode at any given second. She reached clumsily for some water on the nightstand, sitting up.

Her eyes adjusted to the harsh light and she realised she was alone. All traces of Blaise Zabini had disappeared from her room, though she was certain they'd entered in the late hours of the night. A quick survey of the area proved she didn't dream it; her gown and knickers strewn across the floor, and her shoes thrown carelessly in the corner. A weight dropped in her stomach. Was he so embarrassed at their evening together he'd done a runner already? Had the whole evening been nothing but a facade just to get in her pants?

Hermione drained the remainder of her water, her stomach immediately turning. Time for some ibuprofen. She tugged on a nearby shirt and boxers and padded out to the kitchen.

"Oh!" Hermione jumped when she saw Blaise hunched over the stove. "Good morning."

The wizard turned and greeted her with a smile. "I hope you don't mind? I was going to wake you after I finished making breakfast."

"I don't mind at all." She said, composing herself from her snowballing freak out. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I didn't so much as sleep. More like passed out."

"Amen." She agreed.

She made herself comfortable at the island counter and observed him, curiously.

"What's on the menu, Monsieur Zabini?"

"Nothing spectacular, unfortunately. Just some eggs and bacon." He replied, flipping an egg. He grabbed some bottles of herbs from the spice rack and flicked them into the pan. The bacon sizzled appreciatively."Did you think I'd be gone?"

Hermione looked away, chewing on her lip. "A little." she admitted.

Blaise chuckled amusedly. He turned to her and leaned over the island counter, his arms reaching across to her side. "Not really my style."

"No? What is your style?" She asked coyly.

He brushed her hair back with his palm. "That is something you'll have to find out in your own time."

She giggled and batted his hand away. "Watch that bacon! I don't like mine burnt."

"Right away, m'lady!" Blaise saluted her with a boyish grin then returned to the food.

Hermione hopped off the bar stool and helped herself to a glass of orange juice beside her. Crookshanks at her feet, she summoned his biscuits and served him a bowlful of breakfast. She still felt in a daze, doing a poor job of processing last night (let alone this morning). She was glad that Blaise didn't leave before she woke. For one, she had such a fun night with him that it would be disappointing it came to an end that quick, and secondly, Hermione was certain she'd feel hurt if he 'hit it and quit it' (as Ginny put it so eloquently). It felt satisfying to have his company, surprisingly enough.

A moment later, a tawny coloured owl knocked on the window in the lounge. Hermione scuttled over and opened the pane. She removed the letter from its leg as the owl helped itself to some of her juice.

_Dear Miss Hermione Granger_

_This is a reminder notice that the Hogwarts school term commences on September 1st 2001. The Hogwarts Express will be available as a transportation option if you choose. Tickets are not required._

_A brief staff meeting will be held in the Staff Room before the Sorting and Welcome Feast commences. _

_Please notify me if you have any further questions or inquiries._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Hermione scanned over the contents and sighed. The closer the commencing term got, the less prepared she felt. She spent her lunch breaks reading the curriculums and her evenings preparing her class agendas. It was overwhelming. Thankfully, she handed in her notice not long after accepting the job, and now only had a week left at the Ministry.

"What's that?" Blaise asked as he served their food onto plates.

Hermione gave the owl a few sickles then sat down at the table where he was waiting for her.

"Nothing interesting. Just Professor McGonagall sending me a reminder about the school term. I'm guessing she sent one out to all staff." She shovelled in some bacon and made a sound of content.

"Ah so Draco would have got one too." Blaise presumed, buttering his toast.

Hermione pulled herself short. "I'm sorry?"

"Draco would have got a letter from McGonagall, if they went out to all professors." He explained.

She put down her knife and fork. "What are you talking about?"

Blaise looked concerned. "Draco is a professor, or he will be soon enough. He's teaching Charms."

The angry pounding in her head returned and the bit of bacon she was chewing on became hardened and difficult to swallow. She gulped it down, fearing it was going to make a reappearance. "I didn't know that."

"I thought he told you." He confessed. "I assumed that was why you got into a fight… because you were upset."

Hermione looked down at her food, scrutinising it. Blaise arranged the bacon and eggs to make a smiley face. The urge to throw it out the window came to mind. She clenched her fists, taking a deep breath.

"Hermione?" Blaise spoke softly.

"When did you find out?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

"So why didn't you tell me?" She demanded. "You had every opportunity to last night!"

"As I say, I thought Draco told you."

"You could have said something! Why didn't you?"

He shrugged. "You were upset. I didn't want to throw the entire evening out so I didn't bring it up."

Hermione's upper lip twitched and threatened to turn into a snarl. "You still could have told me."

"Now, hold on. It wasn't any of my business. He's the one you're mad at, not me, so I suggest you take it up with Draco." Blaise folded his arms.

She couldn't comprehend what he was saying. Draco Malfoy teaching at Hogwarts? It was absolutely absurd! Hadn't Hogwarts already taken enough chances with Death Eaters in positions of power? How could McGongall possibly think he'd be suitable for the role! So what if he was above average intelligence? There is no excuse for what he did before and during the war so what good could he possibly do at Hogwarts? She had to speak to Professor McGonagall as soon as possible.

Hermione stood abruptly. She cleared her throat and addressed him politely. "Can you please leave?"

His expression softened and she knew that, despite the fact they hardly knew one another, she'd hurt him. As Blaise pulled himself from his chair, a ruckus in the lounge made Hermione turn her attention to the fireplace.

Next moment, a dishevelled and ashy Ginny appeared from the grate. Wiping her forearms, she strolled into the lounge casually.

"I'll tell you what- oh," Ginny looked up from her sleeves and recognised the tension in the air. She regained her composure quickly. "Am I interrupting a lover's tryst?

"If only it was." Blaise grumbled then fled to the bedroom.

If she hadn't been so pissed off, Hermione might have felt embarrassed that Ginny caught Blaise in her apartment the night after their date, but as it was, she could hardly contain her frustration. Blaise returned from the bedroom fully dressed in his robes then he was out the door without another look. Hermione let out a yelp at the slam of the door.

Ginny gave a low whistle. "What a departure." she made herself comfortable where Blaise was previously sitting, and grabbed a piece of bacon. "What was that all about?"

Hermione muttered something intelligible, stomping to the kitchen sink. She filled a glass with water and sculled it in seconds. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. Draco Malfoy teaching at Hogwarts? What a joke. Crookshanks meowed at Hermione's feet. Sighing, she bent down and picked him up.

"I came to ask you how last night went." Ginny explained, taking a bite of toast. "Admittedly, I'm getting a few mixed signals."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Guess what I just found out?"

Ginny arched her brow. "Tell me."

"Malfoy is teaching at Hogwarts."

Her best friend gasped, her mouth wide open like a fish struggling for water. "What?!"

Hermione nodded. "Blaise just told me then."

"Why didn't you know anything about it? McGonagall should have at least given you a heads up!"

"I don't know, but it makes sense why Malfoy came to me last night all in a dither." She replied, shrugging. "Blaise let it slip because he thought that was what the fight was about, and Malfoy obviously didn't say anything."

Ginny winced. "And now Blaise got caught in the crossfire."

She frowned, feeling shame creep into her heart. Did she really just kick Blaise out of her apartment over this? It wasn't his fault, not in the slightest, and he was right of course: she was mad at Malfoy, not at him. She couldn't believe her behaviour. He treated her with nothing but respect and dignity, and in turn she bit his head off over something irrelevant to him. Talk about acting like a child.

"Don't worry about Blaise for now." Ginny interrupted as if reading her thoughts. "It's obvious he worships you - he'll forgive you."

"He doesn't worship me." Hermione dismissed her. She pouted in irritation and started pacing. "Oh, Ginny, what am I going to do? I can't teach at Hogwarts with Malfoy there! I'd never get away from him."

"So I guess now a bad time to tell you that Harry's organising a special dinner next week for you?"

"What? Why?"

"He wants to give you a good sendoff for your new career."

Crookshanks jumped from her arms. "That sounds unnecessary."

Ginny frowned. "Does that mean you're going to quit?"

"I don't think you can quit a job you haven't began." Hermione muttered.

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." Ginny hopped up from her seat, making her way over. "All you've got to do is go to McGonagall and talk to her about it."

"What if she won't budge? What do I do then? I've already handed my notice in at the Ministry!"

"Calm down!" She grabbed Hermione by her upper arms. "One freak out at a time. We'll deal with that if we have to and not before."

Hermione took a deep breath. "What would I do without you Ginny? How can you remain so calm when I'm all over the place?"

"Years of practice on the quidditch pitch." Ginny smirked. "Now, get your ass in the shower. I'll send Professor McGonagall an owl. Okay?"

She nodded miserably. "Thanks Ginny."

Hermione smiled at her friend then headed to the bathroom, keen to wash away her problems.

* * *

The green flames roared at Blaise's feet as he stumbled out of the grate in Malfoy Manor. Draco's House Elf, Erasmus, hobbled over to receive him.

"May I take your jacket, sir?"

"No thank you, Erasmus, I won't be here long. Is Master Draco in?"

"Yes, in the Library, sir. Shall I get some tea?"

"Thanks." Blaise brushed past the House Elf and down the hall in a hurry.

He entered the library a moment later to find Draco stood at the desk scrutinising some papers. The blond turned at the disturbance.

"Oh, good morning, Blaise. You're looking rather unkempt. How was the rest of your night with the lioness?" He baited.

Blaise stopped in his tracks and scowled at him. "Quit the act. Why didn't you tell her you're going to Hogwarts?"

Draco stepped away from the desk. "What?"

"Don't play with me." Blaise sighed. "I know why you turned up to the party last night and I know you didn't do it."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't lie!" Blaise chastised him. "I just got the backlash over your cowardice."

"My _cowardice?_" Draco narrowed his brows. "Get off it, Blaise, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Why didn't you say anything to her? It wouldn't have taken five minutes of your day."

"Merlin, why does it even matter? It's not like either of us can change anything about it." Draco spat. "Besides, I know what she's like, and I'm glad I missed out on that shitshow."

"Don't you feel like you owe her the truth?"

Draco spluttered, flabbergasted. "You're _my _friend! You're supposed to be on my side! Where did this divided loyalty come from all of a sudden?"

"I am on your side!" Blaise huffed. He stepped away, muttering obscenities under his breath, and leaned against the door frame.

It'd been years since he last saw the library opened up to the gardens like this. It was strange and almost foreign. When Blaise used to visit Draco during school holidays he remembered the manor feeling lifeless and cold with its grand hallways and draping curtains. It was a vast estate, but the members of the Malfoy family were a poor substitute at filling the space, even more so now with Lucius serving time in Azkaban. Blaise recalled Narcissa having a field day when Draco and Astoria announced their engagement. She often teased the couple about future children running around the manor, but Blaise could see she had high hopes for grandchildren. Shame about it now.

Blaise observed his friend. He didn't look completely worse for wear, though his bloodshot eyes indicated a rough night's sleep and a few too many drinks, much like himself and Hermione. The differences in Draco's appearance were subtle, but concealing his thoughts was something Draco excelled at nowadays. He must be hiding so much from him if he didn't even feel comfortable telling Blaise about his break up. Maybe Blaise needed to cut him a bit of slack.

"I'm sorry for yelling." Blaise exhaled. "I'm still reeling from her outburst, which happened like ten minutes ago. I came straight here, more or less."

"I can tell." Draco tutted, heading to the bar cart and pouring two whiskeys. "If the same outfit from last night wasn't giveaway enough." He passed Blaise a glass as a truce.

"Thanks." He sipped it despite the taste of alcohol flared up his heartburn.

"So," Draco sat in a nearby armchair, crossing one leg over the other. He gestured to the other chair, "how was she?"

"That is something I'm not telling you." Blaise joined him in the neighbouring chair. "And why do you want to know?"

Draco shrugged. "Just curious. Given I can't imagine that side of things with Granger if you gave me a million Galleons, I want to know why you're lusting after her."

"Godric, you make up some shit." Blaise rolled his eyes, chuckling. "She's actually lovely so we'll leave it at that."

He waved his hands in defense."Pardon me for living." Draco smirked.

A few moments of silence past before Blaise spoke again. "What are you going to do?"

Draco opened a black box on the side table and pulled out a cigar. "I don't know."

Blaise shook his head no when Draco offered him one. "Will you talk to her about it?"

"Maybe." Draco replied, lighting it with his wand tip. "If she didn't want to listen to me before then she definitely doesn't want to now."

Blaise snorted. "You got that right."

"Am I interrupting boy time?" The familiar tone of Narcissa Malfoy rang from the doorway. In front of her a tray of sandwiches levitated towards them.

"Of course not, Narcissa." Blaise rose to greet her. "That's very kind."

She leaned in for a kiss on the cheek which he returned then grabbed a sandwich off the tray. "How've you been?"

"Very well. Trying to understand Draco's sudden interest in a teaching profession." She gave her son a sideways glance.

"My guess is he's got a crush." Blaise taunted him.

Draco narrowed his brows at him, his cigar perched tightly between his lips. "What? On Granger? Now you've truly lost your marbles. I'm going to have to check you in to St Mungos if you keep that up."

Narcissa and Blaise shared an entertained look with one another, and Blaise helped himself to another sandwich.

* * *

"I just wish I'd been given a bit of notice beforehand is all, Professor." Hermione insisted to her ex professor.

The Headmistress' office looked much different than when she remembered from her school days. The windows appeared to be letting in more sunlight, and the ceiling high above them was enchanted to reflect the outside weather like the Great Hall did.

She'd come to make her case about why Malfoy wasn't suitable to work at Hogwarts. So far, it was not going well.

"Hermione-" (it was still weird to be on a first name basis with her professor) "- I have gone through many suitable candidates who would be an appropriate match for the staffing standards at Hogwarts, and I have chosen accordingly." McGonagall contended in her usual firm manner. "Now, if you have an issue with my decision then you need to decide if teaching here is in your best interest."

Hermione frowned at her hands in her lap. The last thing she wanted to do was cause offence or seem unappreciative of this opportunity. This was uncharted territory for her, and throw Malfoy into the mix seemed like a worrying prospect. She just wished she knew if this was the right thing to do.

"I must say I am disappointed by your words. I understand that adjusting to a new life after the war has taken its toll on many witches and wizards, but we have to do the best with what we have." Professor McGonagall declared. "Which also means allowing people who were wronged to be reintegrated into our society."

She nodded. "I understand."

"Is there anything else you need before you go? How are your class preparations going? I hope the examples I sent you were satisfactory."

"They're going fine, I think I'll be okay. And yes, I found the outlines very convenient, thank you for giving them to me."

"Right. Well if there's nothing else then I'll ask you to make your leave as I have another appointment shortly."

"Very well." Hermione gathered her things and stood. "Thank you for your time, Professor."

"Good day."

Hermione took a final look at her boss and headed for the door, feeling defeated.

* * *

**A/N: apologies if there are lots of typos in this chapter, I edited it pretty late at night.**


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